Something Real
by KatieJill
Summary: Picks up where season 5 ended, diving head-first into the burning questions - Will Marlo end Andy & Sam's honeymoon phase? How deep does the corruption in the Toronto PD go? How will all of the upheaval affect the "rookies" - Nash, Diaz, Epstein, Price, & Collins - we have come to know & love? This fic will follow the season arc but focus on the relationships, esp. McSwarek 3
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**

I absolutely cannot wait to resolve the cliffhanger of 5x11, so this multi-chapter story will be what I would envision for next season. I am a McSwarek supporter 100%, but one of my favorite qualities of Rookie Blue is how they are able to capture the beauty and the hardships of all of the relationships portrayed, so please don't lose faith because I have master plan! I am promising ups and downs and romance along the way as well as a storyline that follows the corruption alluded to in the season finale. I hope you enjoy reading about all the RB characters present in this fic, although Sam and Andy are the focus. Thanks and please review as it fuels my creativity!

**Disclaimer**

I don't own Rookie Blue, but I love it.

**Chapter 1**

Dov held the thin waxy sonogram picture between his thumb and forefinger, delicately, with his eyes trained on Marlo. "So, I guess congratulations are in order," he murmured.

Marlo's face remained impassive; however, her quickly diverted eyes told a different story than the rest of her face. He sought to make eye contact, but Marlo stalked over to another corner of the room, shoveling more belongings into her hands, and heaped them into an already overflowing box, eager to remove any trace of herself from 15 division.

"Yeah, I guess, to _somebody._" Her tone was amiably but evasive, as Dov's ears pricked up at her words.

_She's not sure _who _the father is, _Dov thought to himself, as a million other thoughts lapped through his conscious, like waves smashing against a shoreline. _Do I tell Andy? Is Marlo going to at least tell Sam there is a possibility he's going to be a father? Is Marlo going to be okay taking care of herself, considering her mental state? Is she able to continue taking her meds to treat her bipolar disorder while pregnant? What's Marlo's plan for taking care of this baby? Are Sam and Andy going to survive this bombshell?_ Dov shook his head visibly to stop his thoughts. The last one was a pretty poor pun considering the fact that Andy had nearly been blown to bits two hours prior.

Dov carefully placed the picture back down on the desk where Marlo had been constructing a profile on Ted McDonald - the man who had victimized several prominent figures' children with improvised explosive devices and then taken his own life by slitting his wrists in the mayhem that ensued after the evidence room had been blitzkrieged.

As much as he wanted to stay and make sure Marlo was okay, Dov was also worried about the tenuous mental state of his best friend. Chris hadn't even been back ten hours, and he had already been hauled into Staff Sergeant Shaw's office to determine how exactly he'd missed a razor on McDonald during booking. Dov wanted to believe that it was an honest mistake, but he worried that it was too soon for Diaz. He'd had a rough year and then some between his family issues and his addiction.

Dov had been through it before with his brother and he knew the signs of addiction well. He'd hoped that Diaz's short stint in rehab was enough, but in the pit of his stomach he worried that it wasn't - that it was Chris appeasing him by going through the motions.

"Hey, Marlo, I've gotta run, but thanks for letting me help out with tracking McDonald. If you ever need a wingman…" Dov broke off weakly. "Well, you know, someone to run software, bounced theories off…"

"Thanks, Dov. You've been an asset. In fact, you might want to consider a department change. We could use guys like you in intelligence." Marlo took a step closer and squared her shoulders to face him, with a tentative smile starting to curl the ends of her lips. "Hey listen, don't be _too _hard on her."

Dov stared at her for a beat before she looked at him exasperatedly. "Chloe?! Jeez, Dov, go home and get some sleep. You look exhausted."

For a split second, Dov had thought she was referring to Andy.

An hour later, Chris and Dov sat together at a pub table with a round of beers. And despite having both had a hand in bringing in a deranged lunatic who had tried to target children, one of them being a police officer in 15 division, by setting off improvised explosive devices, neither man was celebrating. Chris had pretty much set himself to take the fall when he acknowledged there was a possibility he had overlooked a razor blade, and he was awarded a 6-week suspension. This case was so high-profile and Chris knew the media was going to be all over it. Oliver looked relieved when Chris push the issue of the suspension. He may be a white-shirt now, but he still had the protective instincts of "big brother" to his rookies, and he knew that if Chris had sought to fight the suspension, Chris's personal and professional struggles to become speculation for the media. But, the damage was done to Chris's hope for a fresh start; he hadn't even been back a full shift and he was already stripped of his gun and badge.

Dov, on the other hand, was still smarting over Chloe's betrayal and totally perplexed about what to do with the Marlo/Sam/Andy trifecta. But as Chris sat in front of him, clenching and unclenching his jaw, Dov decided to deal with the one thing that mattered most to him - his best friend.

"Diaz, talk to me. What's going on? You're wound tighter than a yoyo."

"Dov," Chris breathed in deeply through his nose before expelling it slowly. "I _need_ _you_ to believe me."

"Go on," Epstein encouraged.

"I searched that guy. I searched him _thoroughly. _I knew what kind of scum we had coming in. The type that plants bombs in the bookbags of _children-_" Chris spat out the last word, pausing to compose himself and lower his voice. "I had just gotten back from rehab, which is not exactly a secret to anyone at 15 division, by the way. Don't you think I wanted to prove myself, man?"

Dov looked at Diaz and knew instantly his best friend was telling the truth. Something was definitely not right with the entire situation. Ted McDonald...the bombing of the hard drives...a suicide with a razor blade that seemed to materialize out of thin air...Something was all wrong about this.

"I _do_ believe you. One hundred percent."

"That's loyalty, brother. And I know I haven't said it nearly enough, especially this past year, but you're a damn good friend." Chris said, slugging the rest of his beer down.

"You'd do the same for me, man."

A few beers and shots later, Gail Peck sauntered into the Black Penny, a perpetual chip on her shoulder.

"My two favorite bozos," Gail greeted with false enthusiasm.

"That sounded extra bitter, even for you," Dov noted.

"Well, you might be bitter too if you told the love of your life that you were planning to put on your big girl pants on and adopt a child, and then said "love of your life" tells you that's awesome _but_ she's moving out of the country in two weeks?"

"Holly's moving?"

"_You're_ adopting a child?"

Dov and Chris's questions overlapped while Gail cut them off, flagging down the bartender, "We're gonna need another round over here, Angus." She slipped a twenty into his hand discreetly as she muttered, "Keep them coming...On Dov's tab."

"I gotta ask you guys a hypo-ethical, _hypothetical _question," Dov announced, some of his words getting smushed together while others came out stilted and unnaturally. Fortunately neither Chris nor Gail seemed to notice. The alcohol was working its way into their bones, healing the hurt and making them bolder, hopefully strong enough to confront the shit storm of emotions that would surely come hailing down on them tomorrow when the implications of tonight were less hazy.

"Do you think a person has a right to know if he potentially could have fathered a child?"

Chris slugged back his drinking, the subject clearly stinging an exposed nerve while Gail's glassy eyes studied him thoughtfully. They were having a Peckstein moment; their mouths didn't need to move at all but they seemed to be having a conversation all with their eyes.

"Interesting question to pose after the drinks have been flowing, Dov. Maybe Nash has a fresh perspective on the matter?" Gail finally said as Traci made her way to their table, looking exhausted and rumpled. "Hey detective, Dov has a riddle that needs solving." Gail said with a lopsided grin.

_Shit, _Dov cursed himself for ever bringing the topic up at all. He'd managed to isolate Chris, get Gail's inner gears working, and now raise red flags to Andy's best friend.

"I just wondered if a person has a right to know if he potentially could have fathered a child. I mean, Trace, let's be honest. Dex hasn't exactly made your life easy by fighting you for custody of Leo. Do you ever think you might have been better off to go it alone?"

Chris broke the silence after a moment. "I think, at least in my case, it was better to know. I mean, Denise went about it all wrong. She kept Christian a secret for the first couple years of his life and then tried to pass him off as my kid. But, I don't have any regrets. I just wish she'd told me sooner. I wish I had questioned the timeline, or her commitment, and asked for a paternity test. But I don't regret it for a second because it brought that little boy into my life if only for a fleeting time."

Traci reached over to rest a hand on Chris's arm. "I agree with Chris, even though our situations are a little different. As much as Dex makes me crazy, he is an _amazing_ father. And even though we don't work as a couple and we're struggling with the co-parenting thing, I think it would have been wrong to short-change Leo the experience of having a father - having _two_ parents that love him."

"The way I look at it is that the more people there are to love a child, the better, right? I mean, Sophie is going to know where she came from. She knows that I can never replace the mother she had, but I think she also knows that I love her like a daughter and she's opened her heart to me. It's pretty damn _miraculous_ considering what that kid has been though." Gail broke off into a reverie of replaying the events of the death of Sophie Shand's mother.

"Look who's waxing philosophical," Nick remarked as he reached the rookies' table, throwing down his keys and signaling Angus for a drink. "Looks like I have some catching up to do."

"Go ahead and ask Nick your question because he doesn't have parents. Unique perspective."

"Jesus, Gail, your tact seems to evaporate even faster when you have alcohol in your system." Dov laughed nervously, but he was ready to move on from the subject. It was getting too big; too many people were involved and he was too drunk to keep a lid on this for much longer. But four sets of eyes stared at him, boring holes in him, and words poured out his mouth faster than beer poured out of the tap. "We were just talking about - hypothetically-speaking, of course - if you'd want to know if there was a possibility you'd fathered a child, especially if both parties had moved on and one was in a happy, committed relationship now with another person that he was totally crazy about."

His group of friends was looking at him curiously, as this silly hypothetical question grew a deeper backstory.

Nick shook his head, confused as to what he'd walked into. "We're not talking about Chloe, here, are we? Dov, man, there's nothing going on with her and Wes. Dude, you've gotta let that go, or you're going to drive a wedge between the two of you."

"What? No, we're not talking about _anyone_. It's just a "for instance" sort of question. Like, if you found a sonogram on the desk of your partner and knew she had been with …"

_Shit, that last part was only supposed to be said in my mind not out loud…_

"Wait a minute!"

"Hold up!"

"Come again?"

"You worked with Marlo today!"

"...Marlo's _pregnant_?"

The incredulous and shocked interjections continued and overlapped with one another as Dov glanced around the half-empty bar and then gestured like a school teacher trying to quiet an unruly class.

"Listen, you guys can't say anything to _anyone_. I was helping Marlo tie up loose ends with the case and pack her stuff. Intelligence is sending her to follow a lead in Vancouver, and she seemed all too pleased to get the heck out of 15. That's when I noticed a sonogram picture on her desk. It wasn't like she was hiding it, but when I asked her about it, she clammed up. Was really vague about whether the baby was Sam's. She almost made it sound like she really wasn't sure who it belonged to and didn't care. Marlo's pretty independent…"

"But if that baby is Sam's, he has a right to know. And if she'd planning to up and leave for an undetermined length of time, someone needs to clue Sam in, and Andy, for that matter. She is our friend, and if she finds out we knew, it's going to be like the rug was pulled out from under her," Traci reasoned.

"I don't know if we need to tell her right away," Gail bristled. "It's not like she came straight to me when she decided to start sleeping with my former fiancee," she added giving a pointed look at Nick. "But, I guess _Sam_ has a right to know," she conceded.

"I'm really not sure what to say, guys. Maybe we should just stay out of it and let Marlo figure things out on her own," Nick said.

"Yeah, except the thing with that is, Marlo might not figure things out right away. She may not realize how difficult it is going to be raising a child alone, with the demands of her job on top of her fragile mental state. I think it would really suck if we kept our mouths shut and something bad happened. Or, if she decides to pop back into Sam's life when the kid is three or four, like Denise did to me," Chris reasoned. "Listen, let me talk to Sam. I'll be discreet, stick to the facts, and he can handle it from there. Whether he chooses to confront Marlo, tell Andy, that's on him."

Dov nodded. It was the right thing to do, and he was proud of Chris for having the clarity to know that, man up, and tell Swarek. He didn't envy the task; it wasn't going to end pretty for anyone.

As he looked around the table at each of his friends, sharing side conversations, laughing, hugging goodbye, and pulling their coats on, he felt like he was really seeing them for the first time. Gail, Traci, Chris, and Nick...They had been rookies without a care in the world except for proving themselves as coppers just a few short years ago. What had happened in that span of those few years had defined them as people. But each one of them had navigated through the tumult within their lives and had reached the other side stronger, better. He had to hope that his friends would also weather this storm in the same manner.

"Angus, we're ready to square up our tab."

"You're all set, man."

"Nah, man, we appreciate it, especially after the shift we just had, but we must have gone through half your liquor inventory. There's no way this one's 'on the house'."

"I'm always grateful for your service and pretty generous, but not _that_ damn generous! Your tab was picked up by that rookie."

"W-which rookie?" Dov sputtered.

"The one who was sitting behind you at the bar, looking like the last kid picked to be on the team. I think he was angling for an invitation, but you guys were pretty wrapped up in yourselves. What's his name, again?" Angus mused. "Dwight? Devon?"

"Duncan. His name is _Duncan_."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your reviews. They are humbling and inspiring. It's pretty awesome to connect with some Rookie Blue fans and to hear your insights and reactions to the show, characters, and this fanfic. Keep them coming!

So, a little side note about me as a writer. I typically _never_ listen to music while I write. It's just too distracting. This chapter, however, was inspired by two random songs that I came across. One of the things I LOVE about Rookie Blue is the music that I am exposed to. Whoever selects the music for the show deserves a raise! Hope you enjoy some conversations inspired by "The Only Exception" by Paramore and "Where I Stood" by Missy Higgins.

**Disclaimer**

I don't own Rookie Blue, but I am unabashedly a McSwarek fanatic. I also do not own the songs but was highly inspired by them.

**Chapter 2**

Andy opened one eye to the green digital alarm clock beside Sam's bed. 3:48. It was too quiet, and the bed felt too cold. She stretched her arms out long and felt empty space around her. Sam was usually nestled right to her, with a protective arm tucked around her frame. Considering what had transpired in the last twenty-four hours, Andy was shocked he'd left her side for more than a second.

_When they'd finally crossed Sam's threshold after the night they'd had, it was well after midnight. Andy was covered in soot and still had a ringing in both ears that seemed to pulse through her entire head, throwing off her equilibrium. On the way home, Sam had been quiet but attentive, helping her in and out of the car and holding her hand as he led her up the front steps. He gently peeled her out of her clothes and started the water for her shower, but even after she'd stepped in and tried to lather, rinse, and repeat away the day's atrocities, Sam waited in the bathroom, leaning against the sink and lost in thought._

_Andy understood exactly what he was feeling. When he'd been shot, it was as if she'd fallen right back into Sam's gravitational pull. Despite having her past superstitions and Sam's sister Sara raising red flags about him, Andy knew that Sam was it for her and was sick of looking for reasons not to be with him. The nature of their jobs meant that someone was always putting themselves at risk, but Andy knew that she and Sam were evolving. They had made a lot of mistakes in the past, but Sam was different, more open, and Andy herself had grown up a lot. There was a shift in their dynamic as a result; rather than feeling like Sam was her superior and mentor, Andy felt like his equal partner and confidante._

_When Andy reemerged from the longest shower of her life, Sam was waiting with a warm towel to put around her._

"_Come lie down. You've gotta be exhausted," Sam whispered as he dropped a few tender kisses atop her head._

_In the safety and solidity of Sam's embrace, Andy felt the tears she had prayed would come in the privacy of the shower making an intricate web of waterways down her cheeks. _

"_Hey, McNally, it's okay. You're okay. Shhhh." Sam cradled her face in his rough hand and pulled her upper half against his chest. "I've got you, right here," he whispered again and again, rocking her slightly and letting her cry it out. _

_After Andy had quickly dried her hair and laid down in bed, Sam propped himself up next to her and just watched her for a while. It was impossible to ever know exactly what that man was thinking, but she could see the depth of his love for her reflecting back in his deep brown eyes. His worries about her safety were nearly palpable in the silence, but he tried his best to smile at her and dropped a chaste kiss on her lips._

"_Ow," Andy remarked._

"_You were in the middle of a room when a bomb went off. You walked away without a scratch...but it hurts to kiss?"_

"_Well, yes! My ribs are hurt!"_

"_Well, I will try to be more gentle. Sorry. What about here?" Sam asked as he ran the back of his hand along Andy's jaw._

"_Ow! My jaw hurts too. It's probably because I landed on it."_

_Undeterred, Sam asked, "And what about here?", dropping a kiss at her temple. _

"_Ow." But Andy couldn't hold back her smile_

"_And here?" Sam kissed the tip of her nose so gently she had barely even feel the imprint of his lips._

"_Ow."_

"_What about here?" Sam grazed over her lips, stopping a millimeter before, and she quickly threw in a final 'ow' for good measure before intertwining her hand in his hair and pulling him in for a long kiss in which their bodies said everything their mouths hesitated to._

_Sam was the one to pull back. "You should really get some rest, Andy." _

_Andy relished in the way her first name sounded on his lips and how sweet he was with her in these private, intimate moments. But she wasn't even remotely interested in sleep._

_She pulled his stubbly face back down to meet hers, and Sam indulged her in another heated kiss that left them both gasping for breath, but again he broke away. _

"_Andy, really. Get some rest. You've gotta be beat."_

"_Sam, " she said, rolling to her side to look at him. _

"_Hmmm?" Sam replied, looking at her, fixated, with a heat radiating in his eyes._

"_I haven't exactly had the best role models in my life for lasting love. In fact, I didn't think love even existed, and because of that, nobody's ever been worth the risk of getting close to...But you…Sam, you are the _only _exception."_

_Sam had the incredulous-yet-secretly pleased look that he often got when she was trying to share her "feelings", as he liked to air quote. He quickly resorted to humor to ease his nerves whenever their conversations got too serious. What he felt for Andy was so deep, it scared even him at times. _

_She reached out to him, placing one hand to cradle his jaw and the other around his shoulder, and pulled him in, kissing him roughly and angling the length of her entire body against the hard planes of his._

"_Andy, slow down. If you think you're sore now, just wait til tomorrow."_

"_Sam, I almost _died _tonight." The words hung between them life a wet cloth. _

_Sam cleared his throat but said nothing. _

"_I know you're worried about hurting me, but here's what you need to understand. I almost _died_. In those moments before you found me, before I even knew if I was still alive, my life flashed before my eyes. And, Sam, you were in every frame." Andy broke off, as Sam searched her face and wiped a stray tear away with his thumb. _

"_I want to feel you close to me. And if that means a little pain in my ribs, then I accept it. Because it means I'm alive and I'm with you." Andy said, while tipping Sam's face up to meet her eyes. In his, she saw assent. He lowered to kiss her lips. And then his lips hovered above her eyelids, which fluttered in response to his proximity. Sam's lips touched every part of her body, leaving trails of his warm whispers against her skin. He, almost reverently, trailed tender kisses down her neck, the hollow of her neck, and along her collarbone. _

_He returned to claim her mouth, gently parting his lips with his and exploring her mouth with his teasing tongue. _

_They say you can tell a dream from reality by pinching yourself. If you can feel it, you're awake. Andy ran her fingernails across Sam's shoulders and down his back, lightly at first and then increased her pressure as Sam deepened his assault on her mouth. She felt a low groan escape his lips. _

_He paused to look at her questioningly, drawing his eyebrows up with a smirk playing at lips._

"_Don't stop," she murmured, which was pretty much the undoing of him._

_When he finally made love to her, he pressed his weight onto his forearms, careful not to put any pressure on Andy's aching body. That night Sam set a slow pace, taking his time to bring Andy to the brink and then sending her spiraling back into oblivion. _

_Some couples have mind-blowing, up-all-night love-making. Others have make-up sex, a tender combination of passion, forgiveness, and gratitude...Sam and Andy had 'holy-moly-you-almost-died-today-sex', which for the record, trumps them both. Andy fell asleep in Sam's arms, sated and fulfilled. _

Despite the fact that she knew it would drive Sam nuts, Andy gathered the sheets around her, too lazy to search for her discarded pajamas, and tiptoed out toward the kitchen where she saw a dim yellow light casting shadows across the kitchen table.

"Sam?" she whispered hoarsely, the sound of her own voice magnified in her affected ears.

He looked up at her like a kid caught stealing.

"Coffee? Pretty early morning..." Andy observed thoughtfully, noting Sam's mug and his notepad in front of him.

"Or a late night, I guess, depending on how you look at it," Sam replied, gesturing to the half-empty whiskey bottle on the counter.

"Irish coffee, huh? One of Tommy McNally's favorite drinks of choice," Andy observed wryly. "What's keeping you up, Sam? Why am I waking up alone?"

Sam reached to grasp Andy's hips and gently pulled her onto his lap. "I can't get tonight out of my head, McNally. Every time I close my eyes - " he gestured, helplessly. His eyes were round, his lashes long, and for a brief second he looked like a scared little boy rather than the sexy, confident detective that he was.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really, nothing - absolutely _none_ of this - is adding up." He steepled his hands and bowed his head into them. He was desperate for sleep that he knew wouldn't come. He had gotten up and retreated to the kitchen because he wanted to give Andy a chance to rest after her ordeal.

"Sam, run through it with me. I know we haven't been partners in a long time, but we're good together and you know it. Go through it all, from the beginning, and let's see if we can make some sense of it."

"All right," Sam sighed reluctantly. "But let's move this to the living room. You're lying down on the couch, no argument."

"Mmm-hmm, no argument here." Andy smiled standing up. "And maybe you could make me one of those Irish coffees too?"

* * *

><p>"It just doesn't make sense to me. Ted McDonald is a complete paradox. An enigma. But suicidal? I don't see it."<p>

"Well, he did plant bombs in the cars and backpacks of innocent _children. _And he clearly had an agenda for revenge. Maybe his grief and the guilt was too much for him to bear any longer."

"But, he was the one pulling the strings. He planted those bombs, but he also gave up the information to make sure that we stopped them before they detonated. And while I'm sure his grief was unbearable, his motivation to expose the corruption within the Toronto PD seemed to outweigh it," Sam mused. "I don't think he really wanted to hurt anyone; I think he wanted to get our attention."

"Well, he certainly didn't show any mercy when it came to strapping a bomb to a vehicle that held a police officer. And what about the bomb he planted in the hard drives?"

"McNally," Sam carefully measured out the words as he stopped pacing in front of the picture window and turned to face her. "I _looked_ into that man's eyes when the bomb went off in the evidence room. He was as surprised and startled as I was."

"Sam, what are you saying?" Andy asked, as she sat up, wincing at the accompanying pain.

Sam knelt down in front of her. "I'm saying that this is _my _fault. McDonald alluded to the depth of corruption - from the judge in the bombing case being bought off, to members of city council taking bribes, to a connection between the TPD and the Irish mob. He told me if I saw the evidence on the hard drives, I would be _compelled _to do the right thing."

"Yeah, but don't you think that was just another one of his head games?"

"Andy, think about it. If Ted McDonald wanted to do damage, he would have. It's not exactly fate that you survived that bombing. The bomb wasn't designed to have the impact to actually _kill_ anyone. It was created solely to destroy the hard drives. And, the _last_ thing Ted McDonald wanted to do was destroy evidence he had spent four years compiling."

"Sam, are you saying that McDonald isn't responsible for planting that bomb?" Andy felt her heart thudding through her ears, as the gravity of what Sam was suggesting surfaced in her mind.

"It was a diversion. I failed Ted McDonald and I placed you in harm's way."

"Wait, Sam, I am failing to see how any of this is _your _fault." Andy grabbed Sam's hand and squeezing it, trying to erase the wounded look etched on his beautiful, strong face.

"I should've played this differently," Sam whispered to himself, more than to Andy. "I knew the Commissioner was overly aggressive toward McDonald, but I assumed it was adrenaline pumping on account of the fact that McDonald had nearly decimated his stepson. I wanted to keep McDonald talking and gain his trust. I looked into his eyes and saw the pain that he was feeling and how he wanted to match that pain in the people he held responsible."

Sam shook his head, trying desperately to make sense of the events that had unfolded in the past twenty-four hours. "I know it sounds crazy, but for a second it felt like McDonald and I were on the same team. He was trying to take down the "monsters" that killed his son and covered it up. And I wanted to prove to him that I wasn't one of those monsters. Andy, I promised him I was going to reopen the case against the Irish."

Andy took in a sharp intake of air but nodded at Sam to continue.

"And then I told the Commissioner I was going to review those hard drives and pass anything I found that supported his conspiracy theory along to Internal Affairs, which _he _happens to oversee." Sam shook his head in disgust, and his face contorted with a mirthless smile. "McDonald warned me that 'the fish stinks from the head down'. He was calling the Commissioner out, and all the while the Commissioner was watching behind the two-way mirror. Andy, I think that bomb was supposed to be a message to _me._"

"Which means Ted McDonald didn't actually commit suicide. The bomb was set to destroy evidence and create a diversion…"

"So someone could stop Ted McDonald from talking once and for all," Sam finished.

"But Sam, this isn't _your _fault."

Sam put his face into his hands, rubbing his eyes to gain perspective that refused to come. Andy gently reached for his hands, pulling them away from his face. She replaced them with her own, tracing her fingers along his cheekbones and jawline. She took his chin in her hand and forced him to face her head on and look into her eyes.

"Having integrity is not something you need to apologize for, Sam. We're gonna figure this out. Together."

"No, you're going to relax and recover," Sam said, trying to lighten the mood with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "And I'd better get in the shower. What's your plan for today? It better include going back to sleep for a few hours. You need your rest to heal."

"I thought I'd hang out here for a while. Maybe catch up on whatever's on the DVR. Don't worry, I'll save "The Bachelorette" episodes for when you get home," she said with a devious grin.

"Oh. Thanks." Sam rolled his eyes but smiled down at her and kissed her gently on the lips.

"But I think I might go out and grab some lunch."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you don't have much in the fridge."

"True."

"I was thinking that maybe, if you still have it handy, that key would be…_convenient_."

"Really? You sure you're ready for that, stallion?"

"I know I am. Listen, Sam, it was dumb. _I _was dumb. I used to think of love was black or white. When we got back together, things seemed perfect between us and I didn't want to screw it up. I realize now how silly that is, especially after last night. There is no such thing as a _perfect_ relationship."

Sam stared intently at Andy, but patiently waited for her to go on.

Her words came out in a rush, straight from her heart to his ears. "All I know is that I don't know who I am without you. I don't know anymore where I stop and you start." Tears sprang to her eyes with the rush of emotions that she had been battling back since she had come to after the bomb had gone off in the evidence room and found Sam hovering over her with tears in his eyes.

"You taught me how to trust myself, and you accepted me and my many mistakes when I was a rookie and you were my T.O. I know you're trying to let me in, to let me truly know you. And that vulnerability and trust means more to me than anything in the world, Sam. I love you and accept you - and that means _all_ of you - even the flaws, because they make you who you are - Sam Swarek, the man that I love."

The previous anxieties of the morning fell away, and Sam felt a smile playing on his lips, this time a genuine smile, causing lines around his eyes and dimples to crease his cheeks.

"I love you too, Andy McNally," the words catching a little in his throat. "So let's see if we can find that key," he said as he scooped her and her swaddling of sheets into his arms and carried her back in the direction she had come from an hour before, kissing her deeper with each step he took.

**Anyone going to TIFF? Both movies with Rookie Blue cast members look amazing, and I desperately wish I could be at the screenings. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I appreciate your feedback either way!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**

I don't own Rookie Blue, but it must be amazingly fulfilling to be a writer for the show.

**Chapter 3**

When Andy awoke for the second time, the digital clock on Sam's nightstand read 11:37 AM, and her phone was buzzing incessantly like a mosquito out for blood beside her.

"Hello?" Andy groaned into the phone, not even trying to pull herself out of her dreamy stupor.

"Hey, did I wake you?"

Even though she'd known Sam for years now and every last part of him was permanently branded into her memory, the sound of that husky voice still did things to her heart that might alarm a cardiologist. Andy felt a slow smile tug at the corners of her mouth and spread across her face like the Cheshire cat as she thought back to last night.

"Yeah, but I think it's about time I dragged myself out of our little love nest and did something productive with myself," Andy admitted reluctantly as she pushed the ravaged sheets off herself.

"See now, I had the exact opposite planned for you. Why don't you stay put, and I'll stop home for lunch. I was thinking of a little encore performance, yeah?"

"I think this morning _was_ the encore," Andy retorted, still smiling.

"Well, I'd give it a standing ovation for sure. So, that's a no?"

"How about a raincheck? I want to run and grab something to eat, and then maybe stop by my apartment and the grocery store on the way back to grab some food for later."

"At least you're making good use of that key," Sam replied in a teasingly tone. "I think I'm gonna like having you around more, McNally."

Andy laughed, "It's not like it's really all that different from before, except now I can come and go as I please. And you know, poke and prod through your personal stuff a little, and then cook you dinner because I feel just a smidge guilty about it."

"You, cook? Now there's something I'd have to see to believe…FYI, the fire extinguisher is beneath the sink. And by all means, poke and prod away. I'm an open book as far as you're concerned, McNally."

_That only took a few breakups, bomb scares, and bullet wounds, _Andy thought to herself with a grin. "Hey, how's _your _day going?"

"The atmosphere around here is pretty tense. Lot of white shirts milling around, mostly here to deal with the media. I'm trying to stay out of their way." His voice dropped to just barely audible. "I tried to see if I could review the interview tapes of McDonald, but they're gone. Probably turned over to Internal Affairs."

"Sam, tread carefully."

"Oliver's saying the same thing."

"Oh yeah? Any insider knowledge from our staff sergeant about this conspiracy theory?"

"Just that something feels off with this whole thing. He made the analogy that it's like spraying air freshener over rotting garbage. They can try to cover things up, but the stink is just gonna keep coming back."

Andy pursed her lips and then bit down on them, unable to bring herself to form the words etched in her mind.

"You still with me, McNally?"

"Sam, you said this thing runs deep, so I've gotta ask. You don't think Marlo…" she let her voice trail off, hoping Sam would catch her drift and prevent her from having to speak her fears aloud.

"Because she sent you to retrieve the hard drive?"

"Yeah," Andy forced the syllable out, willing her voice not to crack.

"I honestly don't think she was involved in any of this. My gut is telling me that she's just another pawn in the Commissioner's game of chess. The hard drives were definitely rigged after she'd returned them to evidence."

"Might be worthwhile to have a chat with Tim in evidence, then." Andy suggested as she cleared her throat, an unconscious action that mirrored her desire to wipe Marlo from her brain. "I'm sure that the log of people who signed in was destroyed, but he'd definitely remember if someone else had been through."

"Yeah, he's out today, recovering like you are, but he's definitely someone I would like to speak with. Privately."

"I think it might also be worthwhile to have a chat my father. He might have some insight about how to proceed with something as - _delicate_, shall we say - as this."

"Not a bad idea, McNally. Why don't you invite him over for dinner tonight? I hear my personal chef is planning quite a spread."

"What did I get myself into with this key?" Andy joked.

"I fully intend to show you later," Sam said with a low chuckle.

"See you around seven?"

"Try not to burn the place down, McNally."

Sam paused and quirked an eyebrow as a plain-clothed Diaz knocked lightly on the door frame of his office.

"Gotta run, McNally. Someone here I need to speak with."

* * *

><p>Andy wheeled her cart around the aisle of Pusateri's, overwhelmed by the options that surrounded her and definitely wishing she hadn't set the bar so high for dinner. Just as she coasted toward something more her speed - prepared foods and catering options - she came across a familiar buzz cut. Andy was tempted to duck behind a produce display, fearing Duncan might start to reenact last night's shift in front of the good citizens of Toronto, but only a fraction of a second passed and they had locked eyes.<p>

"Boss," he acknowledged with a nod.

"Hey Duncan," Andy greeted him cautiously. "How are you doing?"

"Probably better than you." He paused for a beat, searching her eyes for something that wasn't there. "How are those ribs feeling?"

"I've definitely been better, but by tomorrow I should be cleared to come back. Of course, I'm guessing Oliver will have me on desk duty."

"I don't know, boss, we might have to flip for it. After the mess I got myself into, I doubt I'll see the inside of a patrol car for at least six months."

Andy sympathized but hoped for his sake and for the officers of 15 division that it was at _least_ six months, if not longer. Her bitter grudge against Duncan Moore had pretty much dissipated when she'd seen the panic in his eyes and heard the raw honesty in his voice while he was trapped in vehicle wired with enough explosives to make him nothing but a distant memory. But, sentimentality aside, the kid clearly had no instincts when it came to police work, and she knew that whoever had the misfortune of training him next was going to have a hell of a time finding the copper within him.

"Hey Andy, I hope we're cool. And for what it's worth, I think everything is going to work out just fine."

Andy looked at Duncan, who was looking pretty damn sure of himself, with one eyebrow raised. "Are we talking generally, like in the Bob Marley sense of "everything's gonna be alright"? Or is there a specific arena that you're trying to cover with that platitude?"

Duncan laughed nervously and then seemed to cough his answer into his too-long sleeve. "With Det. Swarek…"

"With Sam?" Andy's brain started to do somersaults; surely Duncan wasn't alluding to the massive cover-up that his stepfather, the Police Commissioner, was hatching. _Commissioner Santana is a far stupider man than I had estimated if he's confiding in Duncan, _Andy thought to herself.

"Yeah Det. Swarek and that analyst chick, Cruz…"

Andy's brain came to a sudden halt and started flipping in the opposite direction: What in the _hell _was Duncan talking about? Andy's eyebrow knit together, as she raised her index finger, unwittingly tracing the curve of a question mark. "Come again?"

"Oh, uh- yeah, my bad. Never mind."

"Never mind? Never mind!? Never mind is what you say to someone when you decide you don't _really _need that fifth cup of coffee, not when you link someone's boyfriend with their _ex_!"

"Andy, I thought you'd have heard by now…"

"Heard _what_?!" Andy exclaimed, incredulously. Duncan took a step backward, and for a split second Andy strategized what she'd do if he tried to take off without answering her question. It wasn't pretty. Knowing Duncan was easily spooked, Andy tried another tack. She compartmentalized her shock and took on a calm but authoritative tone. "Listen man, you're still earning back your trust with me. You wanna get to 100%? You'd better level with me. Fast."

"I heard that Marlo was pregnant and that Sam _might _or might not be the father."

Andy processed exactly what she was hearing. And as the idea rolled around in her brain, Andy began to realize exactly how absurd the whole thing sounded, and as she did, a smirk took up residence on her face. Try as she might, she could stop smiling, and in a split second, a laugh deep within her belly threatened to emerge. She tried to stifle it like one stifles the hiccups. But she couldn't and within seconds she was laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath. Until her eyes sought out Duncan's - serious as a heart attack and reflecting back something that looked an awful lot like pity.

"Where exactly did you hear something like that?"

"Well, from your friends, actually."

"_My_ friends?"

"Yeah, I overheard Epstein, Diaz, and Det. Nash talking last night at the Penny. They were with that Marilyn Monroe lookin' broad and your boy, Collins. Everybody was weighing in about whether or not they should tell you. I, of course, said absolutely, no question."

"_Real_ly?" Andy quirked her brow up.

"Well, not actually in the 'out loud' sense, but yeah, I had your back."

* * *

><p>Swarek locked eyes with Traci Nash through the glass the exact second Chris Diaz exited their shared office and she entered.<p>

Sam Swarek was known for his poker face. But Traci had inherited a widow's wisdom with the death of her first love, Det. Jerry Barber.

"You up to speed?" Sam's voice cracked with the strain of the day.

"Yeah. I think so. Do you _need_ anything?"

"What are we talking here? A hug? A flask of Crown?"

"Whatever you I can get you, partner, just say the word. I saw a positive pregnancy test before I was even legal to drink; I've been where you are."

"I haven't even had the chance to talk to Marlo, so no offense, but I'm having a hard time digesting the idea of fatherhood as reality."

"I get it. But I can tell you right now, Andy isn't gonna if she finds out you kept something this big from her. You need to lay all your cards out on the table. Tonight."

"Traci, don't you think I'm gonna do more damage if I alarm Andy before there's a reason to? I need to talk to Marlo - in person, that's the _only_ way - before I -"

"You think she might try to deny it?"

"I just -" Sam broke off, and for what felt like the hundredth time today, Sam buried his face in hands, trying to wring out the tension behind his eyes. "I need to be looking at her, face to face, when I ask her. Maybe it's the cop in me, but I feel like it's the only way I'm going to know that I got a straight answer."

"I get it, Sam, but Marlo's not slated to return for nearly a week. Working with the facts we have, one, an ultrasound that Dov saw firsthand that belonged to Marlo and two, the pretty obvious timeline that you and she were in a monogamous and sexual relationship four months ago, the scales are tipped toward you being the father of her child."

Sam ran a hand through his hair as Traci's words sunk in. All the other scenarios he'd been actively considering now seemed ridiculous. Sure, they'd been careful, but nothing was one hundred percent guaranteed. Marlo had decided to go off her Lithium without his input, so perhaps she had decided to stop taking her birth control as well without telling him. Truthfully, having a child wasn't what scared him most; it was the fact that he'd wanted that very thing someday but with Andy. The thought that that was no longer a possibility weighed on his heart like an anchor.

Traci placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, feeling the tension radiating from his muscles. "Sam, I've known Andy for nearly five years, and I'm telling you, if you're not upfront with her at this stage in the game, you're gonna lose her. It's that simple. You know there's a chance. You _have _to tell her."

"I guess you're right. But Trace, I'm pretty sure I'm going to lose her regardless. I don't think we can recover from this."

"I don't know. She might surprise you." Traci's words might have been a little more uplifting if the look in her eyes didn't fully contradict them.

* * *

><p>Night had fallen by the time Sam had finished up and slid into the driver's seat of his truck. Sam's usually observant mind was completely blank as he drove home. It occurred to him that he should probably use the time to figure out how he was going to break the news to Andy, but his mind kept coming back to the idea of co-parenting a child with Marlo. His mind simply couldn't conceive of the idea of raising a child with a polite stranger, which, in essence, was what Marlo was to him because he'd never cared deeply enough about her to let her in.<p>

To say that his childhood hadn't been idyllic was a gross understatement, and for that precise reason, Sam had gone on as long as he had without even a solitary thought to having children. He supposed that he thought he might never be ready; that he didn't want to be burdened with the power to completely, for lack of a stronger word, fuck up the life of another person, especially one who would depend on him and love him unconditionally. He'd moved past the toxic relationship with his father, but the scars were still there and always would be. Taking the massive step of fatherhood would threaten to open those old wounds. Yet, he'd almost been ready…with Andy.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, but as he looked out the windshield, he realized he was in his own driveway. Sam pushed his key into the lock, but the door fell open easily. Dusk had fallen and the house was quiet with shadows starting to cast on the walls. He entered the kitchen to find Andy sitting at the table. Dinner was plated and Andy was sipping a glass of wine, but judging by the state of the bottle, it wasn't her first glass of the evening. Her eyes were hauntingly dark and so sad it snapped his heart in two. Sam didn't know exactly how the news had beat him back, just that she knew.

"I cooked," Andy said, stating the obvious. "You know, because I didn't know what else to do with myself. Just went about my _regular_ business. Just trying to have a _normal_ day." Andy drew her eyes up to meet Sam's, and everything she feared but already knew to be true was mirrored within them. "But I guess _you_ already know that that's not going to happen." Andy took a deep pull from her wine glass. Finally meeting his eyes, she spoke - softly and with just a slight hint of accusation, "You told me that her being back wasn't going to kill our honeymoon phase. And...I believed you."

**A/N - This was really hard to write, so I imagine it was hard to read. However, I am working under the assumption that season 6 (or season 5 continued) may get a little worse before it gets better :)** **I promise beautiful McSwarek light at the end of the tunnel and look forward to any and all feedback! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"I guess I don't have to ask you if it's true."

"Andy, I don't even know how to answer that right now - "

"Well, how about we start with how long _you've_ known about this?" Andy hissed.

"I don't know anything, technically speaking," Sam bit back, crossing his arms and essentially closing himself off to questioning. Grinding the heel of his hand into the center of his forehead, Sam inhaled deeply and reminded himself that poor communication on his end had been the demise of their relationship in the past.

"Diaz came to see me today, and when he walked into my office, I actually thought I had hit pay dirt. Here was someone I hadn't anticipated seeing, on account of his suspension; someone who could potentially fill in some blanks about how a razor blade ended up on Ted McDonald after he was already in custody. As it turns out, Diaz was there on an entirely different agenda. He had come into some information that he felt obligated to pass on to me."

Andy was following the trail of breadcrumbs. Despite her stony face, her eyes belied the curiosity she had about how her friends were privy to this very intimate information about her personal life before she was.

"Epstein was helping Marlo to pack up her case files when she got the call that she was being summoned to Vancouver, and he came across an ultrasound picture near her desk. I guess when he asked her about it, she was pretty vague about the circumstances. Considering that we were together for a few months about four months ago, Epstein put two and two together that she _could_ be carrying my child. Apparently Diaz drew the short straw and that's pretty much how my world imploded in the span of fifteen minutes. I'm guessing you heard from Price, or Epstein himself?"

Andy's filled with tears. She bit her bottom lip and forced her eyes down. "I heard it from Duncan. In the middle of a supermarket. Where I was buying groceries so I could make you the perfect dinner. You know," Andy shrugged her shoulders, gesturing her hands in defeat, "starting a new chapter."

"Andy, I'm so sorry," Sam's husky voice was barely a whisper.

"For which part? That I had to hear it from my rookie? Or that your ex girlfriend is pregnant? God, Sam, do you know what I would give just to _unhear_ that news?" Her voice betrayed her by cracking with raw emotion, and she took a sip, hell, maybe a gulp of her wine before she continued. "I know it's not something you planned. I know you had no intention of hurting me, but I really don't know what to _do_ with this, Sam."

"Listen, Andy, let's not get ahead of ourselves. I need to speak to Marlo. In person. She should be back from Vancouver within a week."

"Come on, Sam. Even if Marlo had a string of one-night stands after you guys broke up, I seriously doubt that she would've been careless enough to get herself knocked up by a stranger. She was in _love _with you."

"And _I _was in love with _you._"

Andy rested her elbows on the table and perched her head on her folded hands. Her face was emotionless; her eyes which had moments ago threatened to spill over with tears were now dryer than the Sahara. "Interesting. Because from where I was sitting, it looked quite different."

"Meaning what, exactly?"

"Sam, you were constantly _touching_ her. Somehow, in the span of six months you became the doting, sweet, attentive, communicative boyfriend I always hoped you'd someday be. With _her_."

"McNally, we have a different type of relationship. It's authentic, it's raw, it's messy, it can be downright terrifying. And it's the single most important relationship I have ever had with another human being. Ever."

Andy looked at him, not fully convinced, and he took her silence as a cue to continue.

"Andy, I may have looked happy when I was with Marlo. I may have had you convinced, Traci, Epstein, Peck, and Price, even. But there was one person who I was having a hell of a time convincing - _myself. _So, I just kept trying harder. I told myself that you and I could never be more than friends, and I selfishly kept pulling Marlo closer, thinking that eventually I wouldn't need so much convincing."

"Fake it til you make it," Andy conceded, remembering that she had pretty much lived by that mantra her first six months as a copper. She had applied the same exact principle to her ill-fated relationship with Homicide Luke when she had been falling head over heels in love with Sam.

"Exactly. But on some level, I hoped we would make it. Because the power you have over me, the ability to break my heart the way you did when you left...twice…" Sam broke off, smiling a tight smile that put exactly no one at ease. "Well, you know my backstory, McNally. I spent half my life trying to gain control over my circumstances and the second half of it ensuring no one was going to take that away from me."

"So what changed? If you sincerely wanted something less complicated with Marlo, why did you pour your heart out to me during the manhunt for Ford? Was it just jealousy? Did my relationship with Nick strike a nerve?"

"It wasn't that at all. I wanted you to be happy. But when I got shot, I realized that I wanted to be happy too. Really happy, not just pretending to be. _You_ make me happy, McNally." Sam's voice dropped several decibels, but he continued, finally finding his footing on this slippery slope. He closed the distance between Andy and himself, taking a kneeling stance in front of where she was perched, with knees drawn up, on a chair at his kitchen table. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it, willing her to understand.

"You make me feel alive. I realized when I was bleeding in the back of an ambulance with a bullet in my gut that the person holding my hand was worth the risk of possibly getting hurt because she was the only one who was going to ever fulfill me."

Sam's admission was more than Andy's fragile state of mind could handle. Pushing out the sob that she had been stifling was cathartic, and Andy didn't even bother to wipe away the tears that fell from her eyes.

"It's not like I can just stop loving you, Sam," Andy sobbed, knowing that she was not one of those girls who looked dainty and cute while they cried.

Sam pulled her into his arms, tucking her face into his shoulder. His bodied sighed with a sense of relief at how easily her body melted into his, but his mind was unsettled because her last statement had ended with a yet unsaid 'but'.

"I understand if this is a game-changer for you, McNally," he said as he gently swayed and smoothed her hair down, hoping against hope that she'd say that it wasn't.

Andy pulled away to arm's length so she could look at Sam. "I think I'm going to need some time...and some space…" she said slowly. "I want to be there for you, Sam, I love you with all my heart and I want to support you, but I really need to wrap my head around this. Alone."

"Whatever you need, Andy. Just give me a reason to hope that we can get through this together...that's all I can ask for."

* * *

><p>"Hey, McNally," Oliver greeted Andy with the usual easy cadence of his voice. Andy raised the frothy, dark stout beer in front of her in acknowledgement before taking a long pull of the thick, warm liquid. Exactly nothing about today was usual or easy, and Andy suspected that despite his good nature and eerily spot-advice, talking to Oliver was going to make her feel shittier rather than better. Especially if it meant repeating the awful words Duncan had told her a mere eight hours ago.<p>

"I hear you're cleared for light duty tomorrow, so expect an entree of desk duty, with a hefty side of paperwork." Oliver wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and signaled the bartender to indicate he'd be having the same beverage as Andy. "This McDonald case is a media nightmare. We need to make sure that on 15 division's end, i's are dotted and t's are crossed." He leaned in as though he was bending to adjust his pant leg and dropped his voice so low she could better feel his whisper against her ear than hear it. "I know Sam's confided in you, and my end goal here is ensure that whatever comes out of it down the road, that 15 division's handling of this is beyond reproach."

Oliver's eyes were gauging her reaction and trying to communicate the unspoken message beyond his words. What he saw staring back at him was something that he rarely saw in the wide Bambi eyes of Andy McNally. Behind the carefully-placed smirk lingered something bitter, defeated, and ugly.

"Sam's _confided_ in me, hmm? Has he confided in you, Oliver?"

"Andy, I'm not sure how much you've had to drink-"

"Save it, Oliver. You don't have to watch out for me or sweep my mistakes under the rug, like you did with my father…" The word tasted foul on Andy's lips. "_Father." _She tried it out again and as she processed the word again and again in her mind, it sounded stranger and stranger, like she was hearing it in another language. "There's that word again. Oliver, there is a distinct possibility that Sam is going to be a father."

"Andy, good God!" Oliver made a quick swipe at her beer, but despite being three beers in, Andy's quick reflects deflected his play for the glass.

"_I'm_ not pregnant," she hissed. "I'm talking about Marlo, the super analyst from Intelligence, who just swoops in, works cases all night with Sam, brings him coffee, and then _accidentally _leaves her sonogram picture lying around her office. _Which,_" Andy brought her hands into fists at her shoulder before exploding them out, "is not even her office. She doesn't even work at 15 division anymore. Yet, she rolls in and makes herself pretty damn comfortable."

"Marlo. Is pregnant. With. _Sam's._ Kid?" Oliver repeated questioningly, hoping for clarification that was, well, clearer.

"Yep," Andy replied, popping the "p". "Well, no. We're not one hundred percent sure. It's this big game of telephone," Andy exclaimed with a drunken air and a conspiratory tone, bringing her raised index finger to the center of her lips. "Dov saw an ultrasound that belonged to Marlo, and he told Diaz, and probably half of 15 division...How do you not _know_ this, man? You're, like, Staff Sergeant. You should have a pulse on what's happening with your..._people_," Andy drunkenly advised, waving her pointer finger inches from Oliver's nose.

"So, Marlo's pregnant, but there's no positive confirmation that Sam's the father?"

"Can you please keep up with me here, Oliver? I have already spent the better part of today feeling like I'm in that movie _Groundhog's Day_, and I keep waking up to the same damn conversation!" Andy boxed her hands off to caption and link each detail like it was a play by play on ESPN. "Dov found the ultrasound picture, shared the news with Diaz, who felt it was his civic duty to tell Sam, and _I, _the unsuspecting girlfriend, got the play-by-play from Duncan Moore, of all people."

"Wow," Oliver responded, giving his brain a second to catch up with his mouth.

"That's the most intelligent thing you can think of to say right now? _Wow_?"

"You're looking for something intelligent? Try this out then: irony. When the exact opposite of what you would expect to happen occurs. Remember back to just after Christian was abducted?"

"Jesus, Oliver, are you _trying_ to make me wanna jump off a bridge here?"

"Just listen to me, McNally. I'm a little rusty at speeches, but this is something you need to hear."

"Yeah, go on." Andy waved her hand carelessly, her gestures becoming more exaggerated and less precise, which naturally is bound to happen when one consumes three-quarters of a bottle of chardonnay and several pints of stout.

"Just after all that had happened, Sam and I had a 'boys weekend' out at my cabin with Epstein and Diaz. It was nearly a disaster, but long story short, Sammy and I spent a little time together bonding. He was the one who convinced me that I needed to move on from my failed marriage to Zoe and give this thing with Celery a fair shot. Said he could tell that she made me happy, and all that. And he also admitted that he recognized that connection because he had had it with you. Of course, he was still with Marlo, and I told him that for everyone's sake he needed to break it off with her. You were with Collins, so I don't think Sam believed there was a future for you and him. I'm not even sure how we got on to the topic. It's weird, because although Sam is great with my kids, I never pictured him with a brood of his own…"

Andy hung on Oliver's words, utterly transfixed. It was almost like she was following his lips so closely with her eyes that it looked like the words she was hearing were not matching up with the movement of his lips, like in a poorly translated movie. Or maybe she was more buzzed than she realized. She nodded, her eyes wide, encouraging him to continue.

"But he said he wanted that exact thing. With you."

Andy rolled the idea around in her head. It was true. 'Uncle Sammy' was amazing with Oliver's girls, but he'd never expressed a desire to have kids of his own. At least to her. She snorted, as she thought to herself, _what the hell am I thinking - Sam, talk about his feelings? His hopes and aspirations for the future? _She had gone into this relationship for the third time eyes wide open; she knew she wasn't dating Dr. Phil.

"Listen, Andy. You're totally spooked, and I get it. But from everything you've told me, we have no conclusive proof that Sam is the father of Marlo's baby."

"Always thinking like a copper. Innocent until proven guilty, and all that," Andy grumbled, wishing she could be as 'glass-half-full' as Oliver.

"Hey, there's my girl," Oliver greeted Celery, who had just entered the Penny with a bear hug and sweet kiss on the lips.

"Hey there, yourself," she answered back with a smile. Then taking note of Andy, leaned over to give her a quick peck on the cheek and lightly rested her hand on Andy's shoulder. But before that kiss was delivered to its intended destination, Celery drew back, startled.

"Andy! Is everything okay?" She tossed a nervous glance in Oliver's direction. "I hate to ask this, but is Sam working right now?"

"No, babe, he's off shift. Is everything ok?"

"Um, yeah," Celery shook her head and looked over her shoulder, but she couldn't shake the gnawing feeling resting over her left shoulder. "I just had this weird feeling," she confided in Oliver, looking shyly at Andy. "Like something big is going down. And Sam is really going to need you, Andy."

Oliver and Andy exchanged a loaded stare. If Andy's eyes could talk, they'd have said, "See? I told you so!"

"Good night, Celery. I'll see you tomorrow, Oliver." Andy stumbled off her bar stool directly into the well-defined chest of Nick Collins.

* * *

><p>"Hey there, partner," Andy laughed into Nick's shoulder.<p>

"Hey there, Andy McNally. You doing okay? Don't summon the rookie inside of me; I'm really not in the mood to haul out the field sobriety tests tonight."

"No," Andy said, waving her hand errantly. "I'm totally fine." Andy quirked her face so hard to the left, she downright prayed that her countenance portrayed "fineness". There was nothing quite like looking like a basket case in front of your ex…

"Let me drive you home, Andy."

"Pssh! You haven't even had a drink yet!"

"Something tells me that you've managed to have enough drinks for the both of us tonight."

"Well, you're not _wrong_…"

Moments later Andy found herself buckled into the passenger seat of Nick's vehicle, doing her best impression of a college freshman who was trying not to hurl. And Nick hadn't even gotten the car above 30 kilometers per hour.

"So, I guess you know," Andy fished, distinctly not having a clue what Nick knew or didn't know. It was strange - a thought like a fleeting ship in the night - she had no idea why she cared.

"About Sam and Marlo?"

Andy shuddered. She had known for at least the past fifteen years what it took to procreate. Yet, the way Nick linked Sam's and Marlo's names felt tawdry. There was a certain 'ick'-factor.

"Yep." The 'p' popped with decisive articulation despite her woefully drunken state.

"Yeah, that pretty much sucks, Andy. But," he smiled at her through the rearview. "It's not like it's really his fault." Catching Andy's impassive reflection in the mirror, Nick rethought his words. "It's not like he had the foresight to know that you and he would have another chance. You went undercover for six months. And when you got back, you knew he was with Marlo. You knew what was happening behind closed doors. So, now, there's a consequence to those actions. You told me you loved him, that you were happy. Does this really change anything that much? Do you and Sam love each other any less, really?"

Andy studied the dust that peppered Nick's dashboard. It reminded her of the stubble that often danced across Sam's face when it was under the lights in the interrogation room. Despite her foggy state, she processed what Nick was saying. His words were like a single thin string of clarity. "Nick Collins? You are wise beyond your years. It's actually...pretty _creepy_," Andy bit back a much needed laugh and viewing Nick in profle, saw that he was doing the same.

"So, tonight sucked… I'll give you that." Nick took a sidelong glance at her, as they neared her apartment. "Bet I can one-up that."

"_Real_ly? You can beat baby mama drama?" Andy quirked a brow. "Okay, let's hear what you've got."

"I met this totally amazing girl - beautiful but totally doesn't think of herself in that way, the perfect combination of silly and sarcastic, and generous to complete strangers."

Andy smiled the first genuine smile in ten hours. "I'm really happy for you, Nick. You're a great guy. You deserve someone equally as awesome."

"Well, that's just the thing." Nick tugged at his earlobe uncomfortably. "Even though I had only met her for the third time tonight, and the first two encounters ranged from awkward to disastrous, we had an undeniable connection tonight, at least that what I _thought_. We were kissing, and despite all the coy flirtations, I thought I was breaking down her defenses. Then I told her I was a cop. That puts most normal girls at ease. And I don't wanna brag," Nick raised his eyebrows sheepishly, "But the navy blues have been known to make a girl or two swoon."

Andy snorted back a laugh. "But, I'm guessing this girl didn't have the same reaction?"

"She barely said goodbye! She hopped on her bike without even so much as a look back over her shoulder. It's like I was..._cop-_blocked."

Andy nearly lost it. She hinged in half and buried her face in her knees. She tried to push out the words 'I'm sorry' but her giggles took her breath away. Between the fits of laughter and the alcohol, it was challenging to have a coherent thought, but the one that managing to penetrate the fog of her brain was that she was pretty happy that she and Nick could be as cool as they were.

She knew now that her feelings for Nick were of the variety that you have for a best friend, roommate, or favorite cousin. The closeness would always be there - they'd bonded, especially after having to lean on each other during six months of undercover - but it wasn't the same spark of passion she felt for Sam. And she knew that no matter how hard she tried, that flame would never truly ignite between Nick and her.

"Hey, you okay getting inside on your own? I can get you into your apartment and settled, if you need me to."

"I'm fine," Andy said raising her palms but dropping her keys under the seat.

"Yeah, real convincing." Nick teased as he swiped a hand around Andy's feet and retrieved her keys. "Stay," he chided, pointing a finger at her like she was a golden retriever. He exited the car, taking long strides around the bumper to open her door and lead her out of the car by her elbow. Andy stood, wobbling, as two impossibly bright headlights of a truck that had been idling outside her apartment blinded her and then disappeared down the street.

Andy squinted and then looked up at a flushed Nick. "Was that Sam?"

"Yeah," he said softly. "Looked like it."

**A/N - Sorry it took a bit. I started back at work and time got away from me, as I endlessly revised this chapter. I started the next and hope to post quicker, but of course, your input always provides inspiration when I most need it, so please review! To those who have done so, I can't tell you how much your kind words have meant to me!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Andy alternated between popping Tums and Tylenol. Her head was throbbing, and the dark beer and dry white wine combination had done a number on her digestive tract. Working the desk was hands-down the worst assignment a beat cop could get. Working the desk while hungover? Brutal and tortuous were too kind of adjectives to describe that scenario. Her eyes fell on the tiny cubby below the desk, the place where her legs settled when she pulled the rolling office chair in. It looked like heaven to her. She wondered how long it would take for someone to notice if she took up residence there, creating a tiny hung-over cocoon.

She tried to distract herself from sleep by scanning the room for Sam. All day long, they'd had encounters of the awkward variety. And one particular encounter seemed to be playing on loop in her brain all day long...

_He had been suspiciously absent from parade, but as soon as Oliver wrapped up, she had pushed her way out of the room and settled her eyes on him. He was standing near the coffee pot with a styrofoam cup poised in his hand while he was drowning in a sea of thoughts. She knew that even though she wasn't ready to pick right back up where they'd left off, she owed him an explanation as to why she and Nick were heading up to her place at quarter to twelve. She also was slightly curious about why Sam was waiting outside of her place._

_As she ambled toward him, she noticed when she got to within three feet of him the atmosphere suddenly changed. It was like it had dropped ten degrees. Sam's posture stiffened as he turned to look at her. "McNally," he acknowledged, raising his coffee by way of greeting and then pivoted on his heels and started in the opposite direction._

"_Sam."_

_He turned, already across the room, to look at her. "Space..." His eyes, usually full of teasing, were bottomless brown pits. "I get it."_

Making visual contact on Sam now, nearly eight hours later, drew Andy out of her reverie. Presently, Sam was pacing back and forth in Oliver's office. Oliver had been booted from his own space and was anxiously beating up the vending machine, wondering from an opposite end of the squad room what the hell Inspector Jarvis and Commissioner Santana were discussing with Sam that, even as Staff Sergeant, he was not privy to.

Although not a sound could be heard from behind the glass, the tension was reading loud and clear to anyone who dared to look at what was unfolding behind the glass partition. Sam was rigid and his nostrils flared, while both Jarvis and Santana were stoic and unyielding. Although it appeared they had reached some type of understanding, Sam flung the door open and took the stairs two at a time as he fled the office for the refuge of the locker room, where neither Jarvis nor Santana would deign to visit.

For a brief moment Andy had a flashback to when she and Sam had both gotten wrist slaps for conduct unbecoming. She had taken the berating incredibly hard, and had meekly nodded to all the contingencies that were placed on her. Although she hadn't witnessed the lecture that Sam had gotten, she imagined it had gone much the same way as whatever had just happened between him and the white shirts today. Sam was not one for playing by the rules, especially if he thought the rules were ridiculously at odds with his own personal code of conduct. Just then, her pensive eyes landed on Oliver's.

"I've got this," Andy mouthed to Oliver, taking off in the direction of the locker room.

As she tentatively stepped into the men's locker room, Andy made out the outline of Sam's backside. She noticed the tight fit of his henley shirt as it strained across the muscles of his broad shoulders and back. And then she watched as Sam, unaware of her, took out the aggression caused by white shirts on the row of lockers in front of him. She let him go for a moment, but then, out of concern for the future condition of his knuckles, Andy made her presence known by clearing her throat.

Sam stopped his misdirected rage at the lockers but didn't turn to face her.

"Looks like we're right back where we started," Andy observed, remembering Sam's temper tantrum in the locker room her first day at 15 division, when she'd unknowingly hauled in a fellow officer, Sam, who was undercover, posing as a drug dealer.

"Yeah." A hollow chuckle escaped Sam's lips after a beat. "Right back where we started. You here at fifteen, and me chasing after Anton Hill."

"_Anton Hill_?" Andy whispered the name incredulously like it was a curse word.

Finally turning to face her, Sam crossed his arms over his chiseled chest. His face revealed no expression but his direct words carved out an image with the precision of a sculptor.

"I'm being reassigned temporarily." Sam ran his hands through his hair. "They're dangling Anton Hill in front of me. They want to send Steve Peck and me to work with detectives from the Buffalo PD and ICE agents at the border to broker the deal that brings him back here to face trial."

"So wait a minute," Andy said, holding up her index finger. "You're going undercover? Right _now_?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. The subtle gesture may have been missed altogether by a stranger, but Andy cringed as she noted the hypocrisy of the situation.

"It's not undercover. I'm surveilling, gathering enough to ensure an open-shut case." Sam cleared his throat. "There's no danger in it. I'm not even going to cross paths with Hill until after he's been brought into custody."

Andy leveled her eyes to meet Sam's. She matched him, stare for stare, until he finally spoke again.

"Maybe it's for the best. I've never felt right about the way I left things with Hill. He's always been on my radar because there was never any sense of closure. I just never had a solid shot at seeing him prosecuted until now. And, well, you know…" Sam shrugged and diverted his eyes, busying himself with the lock on his locker, spinning the dial absently. "You did ask for space. And, the thing is, I don't really know how to do that. We spent the better part of a year apart. I don't want to go back to that."

He looked up at her sheepishly. "Looks like I finally get what Temagami was all about. Or undercover with Collins," Sam smiled a wry smile at Andy, finally give the obligatory 'head nod' to the enormous elephant in the room, acknowledging in a roundabout way that he had in fact seen Andy and Nick together last night.

Andy chose to tackle the larger issue. "You don't think that the chance of impending fatherhood might be a logical reason to stay?"

"Well, that's the thing, McNally," Sam raised his brows with a feigned indifference. "They didn't make it sound like I had a choice."

"What do you mean?" Although she was only about six feet from Sam, she might as well been on the other side of the Atlantic. She longed to close the distance but her feet remained firmly planted to the ground.

"They're trying to get rid of me." Sam spelled it out for her like a casual observer. "They blew up those hard drives, neutralized Ted McDonald, and now they want me gone so they can sweep their sins under the rug. By the time I get back here, there won't even be a breadcrumb for me to collect insofar as evidence of a tie between the Irish mob and the Toronto police. The trade-off is Anton Hill, on a silver platter. The upside," Sam highlighted, knowing damn well there really wasn't one, "is that it won't make a bit of difference in terms of our situation. Marlo," he said, clarifying, "won't be back for about five or six days. This thing with Hill is going to wrap up quickly, so I should make it back here even before she does. Then I can get some answers, I guess..." The unspoken words alluded to the fact that Marlo could only supply answers to half of the puzzle. He still had no inclination of what was going to happen between him and Andy, as a result. And if Andy being escorted into her apartment by Collins at quarter to midnight was any indication...

"When do you leave?" Andy didn't even recognize the hoarse voice that spoke those four words as her own.

"They're giving me tonight to get my things in order. I'll be gone before sun-up."

* * *

><p>Andy slammed the tiny locker door closed. Mercilessly, the door flung itself back open, eluding her spitefully.<p>

"Get it, girl. Show that locker who's boss. Andy McNally doesn't take crap from anyone, including inanimate objects," Chloe laughed.

Andy tugged on the hem of her tank top before succumbing to the exhaustion that plagued her wound-too-tight body and plopping next to Price on the bench.

"Care to tell 'ol Price what's on your mind?"

"Marlo is pregnant. It looks like Sam is the dad."

"Eee," Chloe sympathized.

"Oh yeah, and I just found out that he is being shipped out on a wild goose chase after a known drug kingpin who Sam has an unresolved beef with, stemming back to when he was UC with Guns & Gangs, the first time, and I busted him my first day in 15 division.

"Double eee. That makes for an awkward goodbye."

"Not exactly," Andy swallowed hard.

Chloe turned to face her. "Meaning what exactly?"

"Meaning that Sam and I already said our goodbyes, here at the station."

Chloe's raised eyebrow remained unchanged, as Andy's reply didn't really fill in any blanks.

"I told him that I needed space. So, things are not exactly resolved between us. Like Sam said, maybe this is all for the best. I can get some perspective on this whole prospective parenthood thing."

"Buck up!" Chloe sputtered, no filter.

"_Excuse_ me?"

"I said 'Buck up'," Chloe repeated, a smidge louder, her face doubly as expressive, her lips grasping and releasing each syllable.

Andy shook her head and rolled her eyes. She liked Chloe, and usually, she was spot on with her advice. But, maybe the girl who kept her marriage to a former colleague a secret was not the best person to take relationship advice from.

"Andy, Sam is probably terrified at the idea of having a baby. Doesn't matter that he's had thirty something years to prepare for this moment, because truly nothing can prepare someone for something like _this_. But I'm sure he's all _Swarek_ about it, which means he's not about to share his 'feelings' journal with you. But take my word for it - he's _freaking_ out. You need to back him up, regardless."

Chloe's impromptu motivational speech reminded her of something Sam had said to her when he was her training officer - "_You back your partner up, no matter what." _

"He _needs_ you, Andy, especially now. You need to go to him. Now." Chloe smiled at her but her eyes were beginning to glass over like two tiny ice rinks.

Chloe dabbed her eyes with the pads of her thumbs quickly, with obvious embarrassment at her unfiltered emotions. "Sorry, I'm a basket case lately. I just wish I could get Dov to look at me, let alone speak to me for even five minutes."

Chloe grabbed Andy's hand and gripped it tightly in her own tiny hand. "This is important, Andy. Please don't let him leave without speaking to him first. I have a feeling you're going to regret it if you don't."

* * *

><p>"Peck, you've got a call on 3," Traci called out to Gail whose face broke into an ear-to-ear smile that was rare for her. Then she heard the voice on the line, and the smile quickly dissolved, her face took on the distinct look of someone sucking on a lemon.<p>

"I'm guessing that wasn't Holly." Steve Peck guessed as he approached from the opposite end of the squad room. He had observed enough of the exchange to get a sense of the pain his sister was experiencing. It was not all that unlike the dull ache he felt when it came to seeing Nash on a daily basis. So close physically...yet her eyes sent the message that she was still far away from being able to forgive him for his intrusion.

"It was definitely a woman's voice, but it didn't sound like Holly. Poor Gail," Traci said, as she watched Gail thoughtfully from the doorway of D's office. "She's not taking this long-distance relationship very easily."

"It's hard enough to make it work when you live in the same city. I can't imagine how it works when you live in two different countries. Trace, can we talk for a sec? Inside?" Steve implored, gesturing to the empty office.

Traci was looking forward to getting home, trading her suit for sweats, and snuggling with her little guy. Despite the hint of urgency in Steve's voice, she fell easily into the 'brush-off' speech she'd had plenty of practice with since Steve had meddled in her custody woes with Dex.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I can't. I've gotta pick up Leo, and I really can't afford to be late." Guiltily, she tossed out the possibility of talking tomorrow as she made a beeline for the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the desperation on his face as it quickly turned to resignation, but she forced herself to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

* * *

><p>"Yeah, that did happen. It was a while ago. I was still a rookie then. Listen, I know there are inherent risks with my job, but come on," Gail scoffed, grasping at threads. "I mean, her mother didn't exactly have a 'high-risk' job and look how she ended up." Gail winced. That had come out blunter than she'd intended it to, but that was just part of who she was - she called it like she saw it, no holds barred.<p>

"Well, thanks for the update. Yeah, you too," she sang with false enthusiasm as she slammed down the receiver, and noting the sense of satisfaction it gave, repeated the action a few more times before a familiar hand closed over hers and settled the receiver back into its cradle gently.

"Keep it together, Gail. People are starting to stare," Steve muttered under his breath.

"Like I care."

"Well, would you care to tell your brother what's got you taking out your aggression on a phone?"

"Not really," Gail pronounced through gritted teeth. "Because it looks like you have enough of your own problems with Traci." Gail smiled sweetly but her face was wolf-like. She smelled blood and wanted to relish in someone else's misery if only to minimize her pain for the moment. But when Steve bit his lip and nodded, turning to leave, she instantly regretted it. She and Steve didn't have the conventional close relationship of siblings. 'Peck' and 'dysfunction' were near synonyms. But, over the years, despite the competitive one-upping and sabotaging, there was a fierce loyalty that came from having to lean on one another when their parents started ripping down their life choices.

"The adoption's at a standstill." The words spilled from her lips like verbal diarrhea, and they did their job - Steve froze in his footsteps, and Gail continued. "There are some concerns about the dangerous nature of my job, historically-speaking. But," Gail postulated, "sometimes I wonder if it's that at all though. Maybe it would be easier if I was trying to bring Sophie into a two-parent household."

"I know it can't be easy losing Holly and going through one of the single most important events of your life without any real emotional support. Gail, I'd like to say that I'm going to be around to do just that, but while I'll always have your back, it's going to be in the metaphoric sense rather than the literal sense...I'm getting out of here for a little while."

Gail quirked an eyebrow but kept the rest of her face impassive. "Oh?" Never one to allow her face to betray her to emotions, Gail waited for her brother to elaborate, but she wondered if he could feel her heart thumping anxiously in her chest.

"I'm working a case with Swarek, collaborating with ICE and Buffalo PD. Should keep me occupied for a few days."

"Oh. Is it dangerous?" she asked, suspiciously.

"Nah. I mean, we are going after a major player, but Sam and I are surveilling, adding more evidence to an already established mountain of proof. Chances are we won't even see the guy until after he's in cuffs in an interrogation room."

"Nice. Well, let me know if you need me to take care of anything. You know, water your plants, grab our mail. I'm reasonably responsible, I guess," Gail smiled a tiny smile.

"Gail, I'm not coming back after I wrap up this case. I put in for a transfer, and between our parents' connections and my experience in Guns and Gangs, it's pretty much a lock. I'll find out where I'm heading in the next few days, and then I'll send for my stuff. But I do want to take you up on your offer to look after something."

Gail studied her brother for a half a minute before responding. "Alright. Name your favor. Let's be clear; I'm _not _happy you're leaving, but you're my brother and that means I guess I'm willing to be mildly inconvenienced from time to time."

"Keep an eye out for Traci. Tell her I'm sorry, for, you know, _everything_."

"Are you sure _you_ shouldn't tell her that?"

Steve paused and then looked at intently at Gail. "I tried," he said with sincerity. "She wasn't ready to hear it yet."

**A/N - Thanks for the reviews; they have been so thoughtful and always challenge me to consider other possible scenarios! I hope to get you the next chapter up very soon! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**A/N - A sincere apology for the time it took to post this chapter, especially after leaving you with a cliffhanger. I may have revised this chapter to death. Please let me know what you think.**

Andy meandered through the quiet residential streets, letting her mind drift, as her feet led her easily through the maze of city blocks between the station and Sam's house. It was only seven, but it was already pitch black out and had been for nearly an hour. The hum of the streetlights and the quiet of thud of her sneakers hitting the ground were the only sounds, magnified by the absolute blankness inside her head. It was cold enough that Andy could see the little clouds she nervously puffed out, as she tried to channel her Ujjayi breath from yoga class. As she neared Sam's block, Andy's squared her shoulders and quickened her step to a brisk pace. It was like the gravitational pull of the moon that drew her in closer and closer.

She'd been walking for nearly twenty minutes and still had no idea what she was going to say to him, if she even still had the opportunity. In all honesty, she hadn't completely come to terms with the Marlo/Sam/baby situation. It had been less than forty-eight hours; it was definitely going to take her a little more time to process. But yet, she physically shivered imagining the prospect of leaving things so vague between Sam and her. Leaving without proper goodbyes were her and Sam's speciality. But she knew if they were even going to have a remote chance of making it this time, she had to break the pattern. Her man was leaving, and though it was only going to be for a few days, Andy had learned from their previous mistakes - she wanted Sam to know that when he got back, they were going to figure things out together.

She broke into a light sprint and silently repeated the word 'please' so many times it began to sound foreign and ceased to mean anything at all to her. All she needed was a sign that she wasn't too late; something to show her that they had, in fact, written a new chapter in their relationship. And there it was - a thin strip of muted light visible through Sam's bedroom window - like a beacon.

When finally she found herself planted firmly in front of his door, she wrapped her fist on the door a few times in quick succession. The key Sam had given her was burning a hole in her back pocket of her jeans, but after the polite yet distant goodbye they'd exchanged at the station earlier, it didn't feel right to let herself in. She listened a few seconds for the recognizable sound of Sam's swagger down the stairs before she knocked again and then pressed the doorbell for good measure.

She had to hand it to Chloe; she was one hundred percent correct in her assessment of the situation. And although her own love life was in shambles, she was spot on with her advice. _What the hell is taking Sam so long to answer the door? _Andy wondered to herself impatiently before pounding the heel of her hand against the door a few times, instantly regretting it as the pain shot through her wrist.

She took a step back squinted up at his bedroom window. Were her eyes deceiving her? Was it simply the reflection of the moonlight casting that thread of light? She pictured Sam in bed, reading some impossibly long literary classic or a travel book, as he often did when he was having trouble sleeping. But the longer she waited, the less likely that scenario seemed.

Andy turned to pivot, her face on the verge of crumpling into tears, when she made out a shadow behind the frosted glass and then the door swung open. Sam was in plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips.

He looked perplexed, his dark eyes guarded. He blinked a few times, like he was trying to ascertain that she was in fact there in the flesh and not an apparition.

"Hey, I just got out of the shower and was about to shave. I wasn't expecting…"

The words hung there awkwardly as Sam studied her. His mouth quirked into a half smile, and he stepped aside and gestured his hand to invite her in.

Andy walked in, with feigned confidence, as Sam followed behind her, down the short walkway into the living room.

"Did you, uh, _forget _something?" Sam coughed out the question, squinting at her, his eyebrows drawing up at each tail end. But the fringe of his long dark lashes made him look nervous and boyish, and the hopefulness was apparent in his voice.

"Yep," Andy dragged the word out, popping the 'p'. She stopped abruptly and turned, finding herself face to face with Sam Swarek.

_One_. She locked eyes with him, and in one single gaze she felt one hundred emotions pass from her to him and him to her. _Two_. She looked at him and knew in her heart that no matter what life threw at them they could face it together. He had trained her. He had loved her before he'd ever known what that even meant. He wanted to protect her at every turn, yet he completely believed in her ability and admired and respected her strength and foresight as a cop. He had her back, even when it was complicated. And she was damn sure going to have his.

_Three_. He could _still _stop her heart while simultaneously setting her skin aflame with just one loaded gaze. Unwilling to waste any more time, Andy clapped her hands around his jaw in one fluid motion. She paused for a brief second, cradling his face in her hands, before moving in to seek out his mouth. As her lips met his, she moaned a sigh of relief that had been waiting to make its escape for hours, if not days.

Sam's surprise at her forceful attack was short-lived. As her mouth worked its way greedily down his throat, Sam grabbed her hips and guided her backward through the hallway. Andy felt drunk with lust, and apparently Sam was feeling a little buzzed too, because he walked Andy straight into a wall.

She stifled a laugh into his lips, as he pinned her lightly against the wall with his hips and his mouth, which was exploring every inch of Andy's. Every time she was with Sam felt like the first time - literally, they were like two teenagers who couldn't keep their hands off of each other. He swung her body up and brought her legs around him, carrying her up the stairs to his bedroom, stealing more kisses along the way. He changed up the urgency, softness, depth, and length of his kisses with each step he took.

Sam deposited her at the foot of the bed, and shed out of his shirt in the blink of an eye before eagerly attacking the buttons on her blouse.

Andy's eyes drifted to the outline of their shadows on the walls and the flickering background. "Sam? What's with all the candles?" Andy asked with a teasing but curious smile, knowing damn well that the only reason there were candles around in the first place were because she'd brought them to his apartment.

"I, uh, lit them because they-" he paused, smiling reluctantly. "Well, they smell like you. They remind me of you, McNally. And, we've only spent one night apart, but I miss you."

"Hey Sam, let's slow down a second. We really should talk."

Sam ran a hand through his hair, a solemn look on his face. "Yeah, sure. You want the lights on?" He paused for a second and then waved his hand, "On second thought, maybe we'll just leave them off. Ya know, since you have a tendency to scatter faster a cockroach when the lights come on," he said wryly.

"That's just it, Sam. We both have a tendency to run when things get tough. And, right now I have a million reasons to proceed with caution, but I don't _want_ to anymore. I want _you. _I love you, Sam. I couldn't stop if I tried. And I want you to know I think you're going to be an incredible father."

"Andy, we don't know-"

"Sam, please, I need to say this, and I really think you need to hear it. I know you didn't have the ideal, 'sitcom' dad growing up. But if you're at all questioning the kind of father that you would make, I want you to know that I believe unequivocally that you are going to be an amazing dad."

"Thank you." Sam watched her carefully. "But, so we're clear, McNally, _you _make me a better man. I'd rather do this _with _you than without."

"I'm getting there, Sam." She took his hand in hers and smiled up at him. "Maybe this time to process everything will do us good. I've been so myopic; I need to stop zeroing in on my feelings and consider how I can support you."

"Then we'll take the next couple days apart to work through this. But right now," Sam leaned in to drop a sweet kiss on her lips. "we're together, and that's all I want to focus on...right now."

"To get you through the next ninety-six hours in a van with Steve?" Andy smiled. "I think that could be arranged." Andy nuzzled her face into his neck.

Sam bounced her onto the bed effortlessly, his mouth suddenly everywhere - trailing soft kisses along her neck, licking her lips to gain entry to her mouth, and rasping his warm breath at her ear.

He peeled her out of her clothes, layer after layer, like an onion, sighing with appreciation as his usually steady hands fumbled frantically with the clasp of her bra. She studied him in his frustration as he struggled. Sam was hot. Despite having a good ten years on her, he was in perfect physical condition, on all fronts. Whether he was in uniform, a henley and jeans, or nothing at all, he was hot. His eyes were hooded but met her gaze with a scorching intensity. Sam's unshaven face was creating a trail of prickly friction over her neck and chest and face.

Sam's hands were splayed over her hips, grasping her with an urgency that was reminiscent of the first time she'd ever hooked up with him. He pressed his hips against hers, and she could feel the effect that she had on him, despite the barrier of clothing. She made a swipe for the tie on his pajama pants just as he plunged his touch inside of her, causing her to arch her back and let out a cry of satisfaction. The dizzying pace that he was moving his hand in just the tiniest of motions was her undoing, and she cried out his name and again and again.

When she couldn't take another second of foreplay, she snaked her hands down his hips, inside the soft flannel of his pants. She slid them down to his knees and continued to push them down ungracefully with her feet.

He paused to look at her, his breath was ragged. "I love you, Andy. It's always been you. You _know_ that, right?"

"Yes, Sam. I love you too." She whispered, her eyes meeting his, while her fingers traced abstract messages into his back. Somewhere along the line she'd matured; before she been scared of true intimacy and vulnerability, but with Sam it felt like coming home.

He entered her slowly with his lips on hers, and then grasped her hips to fill her entirely. She felt herself start to quiver around him, as she wound her arms around his neck and gripped his beautiful face in her hands.

It was a blur of euphoria as Sam showed her exactly how much he loved and needed her, as he sometimes struggled to do with his words.

Totally worn out and breathing like they'd just powered through a P90x workout, Andy and Sam lay next to one another on their backs, just inches apart. They were quiet, the only sound was the cacophony of their labored breathing. They were still, aside from the rise and fall of the sheet wrapped over Andy's chest. Andy closed her eyes and edged closer until she could feel the steady hammering of Sam's heart; in this moment all was right with the world. Yet, somewhere within the deep caverns of her mind, words pushed to awareness - words that caused a feeling that one gets when the other shoe is about to drop.

Andy, sated and sleepy, tried to remember those words, but as quickly as they appeared, they went out of focus, like looking through a too strong lens during an eye exam. As she drifted off to a fitful slumber, she was left with the annoyance of trying to recall something that had flitted back to her subconscious into a distant, fuzzy memory.

Some time later, Andy awoke with a start, panicked that she had missed something - something extremely important. But the room was still dark; it couldn't have been any later than four or five in the morning. Sam, however, was wide awake, his hand propped beneath his jaw, as he reclined on his side and smiled at her as she blinked and tried to clear her mind of the fog that was hanging over it.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's impolite to stare?" Andy grumbled, mirroring Sam's position so she could look him in the eyes.

"I'm trying to memorize your face. I'm not gonna see it for a few days."

Andy smiled at him and leaned in for a kiss. "When do you have to go?"

"As soon as I get the call. Which, I imagine, will be coming quite soon."

Taking it as a cue, Andy twined her leg around Sam's hips and pulled herself up to straddle atop him. She smiled down at him mischievously. "Hmmm, coming quite soon? Sounds a bit prophetic."

Sam smiled and took her face into his hands, bringing her close. "McNally, as good as that sounds, I need you to listen to me for a second. I am one hundred, no, make it one thousand percent sure that I am being shipped out as a diversion because I started probing too deep into McDonald's conspiracy theory. I don't want to spend the next few days worrying about you, especially because I'm not sure when or how often I'll be able to contact you. I need you to _promise_ me that you'll keep your ear to the ground to listen for anything that seems suspicious, but that you won't start digging into this on your own. This is big, McNally. Huge."

She'd never seen Sam look like this. Although Sam trusted her instincts as a cop implicitly, his protective side came out on occasion, some of those times before they were even together as a couple. However, tonight there was something in the seriousness of his tone that was jarring.

"I promise, Sam. I won't make any moves without you."

"Okay," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "Ok." He searched her eyes and gently tugged his hand which was tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, bringing Andy's face to meet his. Andy felt a rush of heat spread rapidly throughout her body as his tongue stroked hers fervently. Their lovemaking became more and more frantic as they realized somewhere in the back of both of their minds that they were racing against the call that could come at any second, whisking Sam away.

That call did come exactly twenty-seven minutes later. Andy watched from bed as Sam tugged jeans up over his exceeding adorable boxer-brief-clad ass. He distractedly fastened his belt and pulled a black henley t-shirt over his head. His hair was deliciously rumpled from their too-quick early morning romp.

He perched on the bed, drawing her into his arms. "I love you, McNally. Don't, uh, do anything I wouldn't do," he said. His nervousness belied the easy tone he was aiming for.

"Don't worry about anything but securing Anton Hill to a six by eight cell." Andy fully understood Sam's hesitation. She couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was, but she had an uneasy feeling in her gut. Not wanting to alarm Sam, she smiled what she hoped was one of her ear-to-ear, radiant smiles. "I love you too."

"I gotta go." Sam kissed her once - the type of kiss that at any other time easily would turn into the two of them ripping each other's clothes off. But Sam pulled back quickly and then dropped a chaste kiss on her lips for good measure. He got up, grabbed his bag, stole one more glance at her, and then retreated from the room.

Andy heard the door latch behind him as he left. That nagging feeling that everything was about to change crept back up her esophagus, like a wicked case of heartburn. It felt like something big was on the verge of happening, and suddenly she wished she would've stopped Sam from leaving.

Like the final piece of a puzzle, it all clicked into place - Celery's words from the previous night began to ring in her ears - "Sam is going to need you". The feeling of foreboding she had had after they'd first made love. Sam's cryptic warning to stay away from the McDonald case. Something about it all felt horribly wrong.

Andy reached for her cell phone and dialed Sam, not completely sure of what she was going to say. She didn't have the chance. It went straight to voicemail.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Chloe swiped at the sweat starting to pool and fall from the dip just above her sternum with her towel. Her legs were furiously turning the pedals of the bike faster than a hyper hamster on a squeaky steel wheel. Chloe, however, was so lost in thought, she was barely winded.

"Hey, Price," a familiar voice called, snapping her out of her reverie. "You might want to give that stationary bike a rest while all the bolts are still holding it together. Everything okay?"

Chloe hopped off the bike, her legs quivering like Jello when her feet hit the ground. She grabbed her towel from her waistband. "It's all yours, partner," she said, playfully swatting it at Nick. "I need to hit the showers before parade anyway."

The locker room was unusually quiet, Chloe observed. She snorted in realization. Of course it was quiet; she was typically the one who supplied the chatter.

Chloe stepped in the too-hot water and lathered up hurriedly, hoping to have a spare second to atttempt to talk to Dov. She was cautiously optimistic about her odds of catching him alone - with Chris being suspended, Sam and Steve working an out of town case, and Andy and Gail being so wrapped up in their own issues that they were pretty much completely off the grid.

She knew that Dov was still pissed about the scandal she had now begun to refer to in her mind as Wes-Gate, and she really didn't blame him. But every time he avoided her call or pivoted to walk in the opposite direction at the station seemed to solidify her already nagging suspicion that he was not going to be able to get over her dishonesty a second time; the body-cam incident was just too much.

She breathed deep, letting the steamy stream of water pelt the exhaustion out of her. She regretted hitting the bike so hard; her muscles were screaming, and the hot water was doing little to ease her aches and pains. She threw a towel haphazardly around her and emerged from the steam. Despite only having twenty minutes til parade, Chloe was unwilling to forgo make-up. She knew it was flawed logic, but she couldn't help but think that if she nailed the perfect application of eyeliner it might just be the tiny little bit of strength she needed to pull Dov over the tug-of-war line to the 'Chloe side' that she visualized in her mind.

The end result? Her hand was shaking so bad it looked she'd allowed her goddaughter, Frank and Noelle's sweet baby girl, to apply her eyeliner. She pushed her way into the parade room like a trapped squirrel, looking for a seat she could slip into without anyone taking notice that she was seventy-six seconds late.

Her eyes spotted Nick slouching against the back wall, as much as his tall frame allowed him to slouch. She sidled up next to him. He raised his eyebrows questioningly as a smile danced on his lips.

"Making our presence known is the name of the game. We're taking a lot of negative press due to the McDonald incident, so we need to combat the image that the media is putting out there by showing our faces where we're most needed - out of the streets." Oliver rallied, as he paced back and forth in front of the men and women seated before him who vowed to serve and protect the streets of Toronto. "No task is too small; no criminal offense is minor enough to turn the other way."

"Our main of objective-" Inspector Jarvis cut in. But his voice was like the sound of the bell at the end of class; once it sounded, people began to scatter. Oliver saluted in recognition and solidarity, in place of usual quip about serving and protecting. Although subtle, in the past few days, there had been a feeling of change and perhaps just a dash of defiance from the officers of 15 division.

Dov had steadily ignored Chloe through the entire parade. It was literally painful, watching his ramrod straight posture and his icy demeanor. She'd held her piercing gaze on him for a solid five minutes, willing him to at least give her a sidelong glance, until Nick finally jabbed her lightly with his elbow in the ribs.

"At least blink once so I know you're not, like, having a seizure or something," Nick teased, half incredulously and half sympathetically.

"He hates me. And he's never getting over this," Chloe lamented, as she watched Dov duck out of the room.

"And did you think boring holes in his head with your eyes was going 'Jedi-mind trick' him into moving past it?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, as she approached the driving assignment list and ran her index down the sheet.

"Holy shnikey. I'm driving with Dov today!" Chloe said in a dazed voice.

"No you're not."

Chloe regarded him with a discerning look.

"Sorry. He asked me to switch with him before you came in. He said he wasn't ready to talk to you," Nick added sheepishly. "And I was supposed to ride with Gail and both said they wanted to make it a 'Peckstein' kind of day. Which I was fine with, by the way. Gail's more intense than usual the past few days. One minute she's laughing hysterically at my expense, and the next she's bawling her eyes out. I have no clue what's going on with her, but I need a break."

"Well, if you think you're getting an easy day with me, I hate to break it to you, but I'm not going to be great company at all."

Nick tossed an arm casually around her shoulders. "Nah, I think we're gonna have a pretty good time commiserating together. You can drive and we can even go that disgusting hot dog stand you're obsessed with for lunch."

Chloe looked thoughtful as she grabbed the keys from Nick's outstretched hand. "Make it a mid-morning snack, and we've got a deal."

"_Gross_."

"So run her name through the system," Chloe offered, thoughtfully nibbling on the end of her loaded hot dog, before devouring it with three quick bites.

"Ethically? That would be a complete invasion of privacy. And, professionally? It's completely against policy. Even if there weren't a half a dozen white shirts milling around, I still wouldn't do it." Nick said, his voice dropping to a self-righteous whisper, even though they were alone in the squad car.

"Calm down, cowboy. I was just tossing ideas out. You want to know why Juliet took off like a bat out of hell when she found out you were a cop, and I gave you one avenue of how to get your answer. I'm like Mapquest - I suggest the fastest route, even if it's not always the best one. I'm sure there are _other_ ways of figuring out what her story is." Chloe watched out the window, relieved for both the diversion of patrolling the streets and the distraction of Nick's romantic woes. She turned back to Nick with a conspiratory smile. "Maybe she's in witness protection because she is going to testify against some mob kingpin."

Nick rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. He was just happy to see Chloe with a grin on her face, even though he knew it was her way of laughing through the tears. She was remorseful, painfully hopeful, and downright glum, but given the opportunity to help a friend, she put on a happy face and jumped at the opportunity.

"Doubtful. Juliet isn't exactly low profile. She says exactly what she's thinking and she doesn't seem intimidated by anyone...Well, until I - told her I was a cop," Nick finished haltingly, perplexed by the enigma that was Juliet.

"Well at least look her up through the system to get an address for her. If I were you, I would go to her place and demand an explanation about why she left. I would be completely direct…" Chloe bit her lip and felt herself freeze momentarily. Her eyes glazed over and her facial muscles went slack. Every time she gave the advice to a friend to be honest, open, and direct in their relationship, it felt like a hand reaching up to slap her right across the cheek. Why on earth could she advise others but be so numb to her own instincts?

She caught Nick looking at out of her peripheral vision. She quickly plastered a smile on her face. Nick had been an amazing friend to her, and she wanted to repay the favor. She vowed not to turn today into another therapy session about her and Dov, despite the fact things seemed to be spinning out of control. She wanted things to work out with Dov more than anything, but inside she was wondering when it was time to cut their losses. When should a relationship feel like going to battle? And were the emotional scars they were both covered with worth it in the long run?

"I can see your wheels turning, Chlo, but I think I'm gonna just let this one ride. She's not interested. I can deal with rejection." Nick smiled a self-deprecating smile. Chloe studied him for a moment before deciding she wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily.

"You know what? I think maybe you like the 'mystique' that Juliet has to offer."

"I'm not following."

"I'm just saying that I think that her emotional unavailability might be a turn on for you. You know, the thrill of the chase."

Nick didn't say anything for a moment. He let Chloe's words reverberate through his head for a few seconds. Both of his most recent girlfriends had been pretty emotionally unavailable. Gail, because she was way too guarded to let someone see when she was at her most vulnerable, and Andy? Well, she was in love with someone else, and he'd known that the second that he'd fallen for her, he'd never be more than a friend and a rebound lover to her.

Maybe Chloe was right. He thought running into Juliet, yeah literally _running into her_ the second time, had been fate, some kind of cosmic sign. But what if he was just misreading the signs? What if he was turning two chance encounters into something more than what it really was because he enjoyed the thrill of the game? Who's to say that if she'd agreed to go out with him for coffee a few times that they wouldn't have realized they had absolutely nothing in common and those few intense kisses they'd exchanged outside the Dark Horse, were just that - a hot makeout session that led exactly nowhere.

"You know what, Chloe? You might actually be on to something. I might really just be attracted to Juliet because of her disinterest."

Chloe gave him a look of utter disgust. She shook her head and looked physically pained at the sight of him. She winced, placing an open palm on her chest. "Nick, pull over. Now. I think I'm gonna be sick."

**A/N - I apologize - this was a very brief update after****_ way_**** too long. It's a busy time of year and I actually got totally stuck as to where I wanted to go next. Although I am deviating from my original plan, I think I'm back on track. I will be posting again in the next few days, as I've decided to break up a lengthy chapter. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"McNally." Oliver latched on to Andy's elbow and swiftly led her in the direction of his office, waiting until he had closed his door to utter another word.

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly, taking in her concerned look, as he ran his hand over the spot of thinning hair on the back of his head. It was his tell - an apparent sign of his nervousness. "This place is crawling with white shirts."

Andy's quizzical eyes slowly drifted from Oliver's gaze downward toward his chest. Which, of course, was covered with a freshly starched and pressed white shirt.

"Yeah, the irony's not lost on me either, McNally. Listen, the media is spinning this story to make Ted McDonald out to be a madman, but I can't get Sammy's words outta my head. Andy, I'm sure that you've already heard the same speech from Sam, but you can't talk to _any_one about this," he implored her. "Especially with someone like Duncan around, we can't be too careful about sensitive information ending up in the wrong hands." Oliver mentioned Duncan but his eyes followed Gail Peck as she forlornly shrugged in her jacket and trailed behind Dov.

Andy and Gail had a complicated friendship. They had been competitive throughout academy, but after working side by side at 15 for a while, the rookies became family and understood each other better often times than the ones they went home too. Whether it was Andy's ability to melt through Gail's icy exterior, or Gail letting her guard down enough to make friends, the two had actually become pretty close. However, the competitiveness had never really disappeared; it just manifested in new ways. Hence, Andy's brief romance with Nick which had severely violated girl code, and Andy's sneaking but unconfirmed suspicion that something may have happened between Gail and Sam shortly after they'd been cut loose as rookies a few years ago.

Andy observed Gail's sad and tired face and thought to herself that she and Gail hadn't talked - _really _talked - in a while. She had no idea what was going on in Gail's life lately; in fact, she had barely even met Holly, Gail's girlfriend, and now she was moving to San Francisco. She vowed to find some time in the next week to get together with Gail. They apparently were both going through some tough situations, and leaning on each other might give them the support they needed to be strong through it.

"Hey, Oliver, I get what you're saying about being discreet, and you know damn well I've learned my lesson about putting Sam into unnecessary danger. But you're not implying that I need to keep my mouth shut around Gail, are you?"

"Andy, this is really big. You literally could not to be _too _careful at this point about who you talk to. And that includes Gail."

"We're one big dysfunctional family here at 15, and Gail's a part of that family."

"But she's also part of another family. She's a Peck, first and foremost."

"Yeah, and so is Steve, and right now, he's got Sam's back. Please don't take away the _one _thing that is giving me peace of mind right now."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry. This whole situation is putting me on edge. Jarvis has been glued to my ass for the past forty-eight hours, and I guess I'm a little paranoid. Can you blame me though? We've got a virus within this force. And it's killing me that I don't know where it starts and how far and fast it's spread. All I'm saying is, proceed with caution."

* * *

><p>"Slow day, huh?" Dov asked, hoping against hope that by uttering those jinxing words, a high speed chase to ensue. Oliver wanted them out on the streets, which Dov was all for, when there was action to pursue. But so far today was record-breaking peacefulness.<p>

Gail hitched up the volume to the radio another few notches and began to belt out her rendition of one of the saddest country songs he'd ever heard.

"Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be _coppers, _Don't let 'em handcuff bums and drive them squad cars, Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such. Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be _coppers, _They'll never stay home and they're always alone, Even with someone they love."

"Gail, as much as I love your singing, if you need to talk, why don't you just go ahead and _say_ what's bothering you." Dov said, quickly silencing the radio.

Gail rolled her eyes and puffed out her lips indignantly. But she caught Dov's eye out of the corner of hers, and she knew that there wasn't a safer person to do lose her composure in front of. Hell, Dov had spilled his guts to her, more than once. "Holly left." The words were barely a whisper.

"I thought you said two weeks."

"She's just there to sign some stuff. But that makes it official, so she may as well be gone. I mean, the message is pretty clear, right? She was banking on me being willing to pick up and move with her, and I was banking on the fact that she would be okay with becoming a de facto parent. I guess we were both way off base. Maybe it's crappy timing, or maybe we just weren't meant to be."

"I know it sucks, Gail, but give it a little time to see how it all plays out. You never know."

"Thanks, bud." Gail said sarcastically, slapping Dov's knee. "That was the most noncommittal pep talk I've ever heard."

"Hey, you want a psychic reading or maybe a love spell that has Holly running home, call Oliver's girl, Celery. I can only tell you what I know." Dov slowed the cruiser and pulled over to the side of the road so he could turn and face her. "And speaking of what I know, while Holly may be missing out, Sophie is one lucky little girl."

"Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure?" Gail said in her customary self-deprecating tone.

"Because clearly your mother has done a number on you. You're constantly questioning whether you're good enough, and Gail, you are. I know that you try to act all tough and disengaged, but you're a big softie at heart. Remember when we delivered that woman's baby during the heat wave? You thought I wasn't watching, but I saw how enthralled you were by that little guy. You couldn't stop smiling. And what about that puppy Chris brought home that one time? Even though you acted like you wanted him gone, I saw you feeding him table scraps when you thought no one was looking. Believe me, I could've killed you because he marked his territory in my room, and I was finding little puppy 'surprises' all over my room for weeks-"

"I did _not _feed him people food!" Gail cut in, repeating the mantra he'd heard her repeat to Chris more than a dozen times in the short period that the puppy had been in their care.

"Regardless of all that, what I'm trying to say is that if you're losing faith right now because things are all starting to cave in around you, just know that _I_ believe in you. Gail, you are going to make an amazing mother."

"I feel like you might have said something like this to me before," Gail said, a coy but genuine smile playing at her lips. "Of course, you were under the influence of narcotics and pretty much professed your undying love to me. Pretty much ended me and Diaz, and nearly irreparably shattered your bromance with him."

"And now I'm remembering why the pain pills are a prerequisite to having a heart to heart with you." Dov said with a chuckle, knowing that Gail was just too damn prickly to say thanks and bask in the glow of his compliment.

"1521, 1519 is requesting back up for a 10-51 at Mercy and Division."

"10-8. Mark us enroute."

Gail switched the lights on as Dov peeled away from the curb. "I meant it, by the way."

* * *

><p>"<em>I'm gonna miss you." Sam felt a shyness tug at his gut. He had put his life into McNally's hands on countless occasions as her training officer and partner, but ask him to show vulnerability and it felt like being on the losing end of Fight Night.<em>

_Sam found himself back in a loft apartment that belonged to his undercover persona, JD. It was surreal, and it occurred to Sam that he was dreaming, but it was too good to wake up from._

"_How long's it gonna be?" Andy asked him, her eyes carefully studying his face. _

_How long? It wasn't a question he could answer easily. How long had he been in love with her? Probably from the first day they'd met. Not when she had her knee in his back, although he was duly impressed at the ambition of the young rookie. No, it was when she called him out for being a punk after she'd blown his cover. _

_How long had he waited for her? Probably too long, but it was all worth it in the end. She needed to be sure that she was getting involved with him for the right reasons - not lust, not to advance her career, not to get over Luke Callaghan. _

_How long had he kicked himself in the ass for breaking up with her when he actually needed her more than anyone after Jerry died? How long did he waste with someone who _wasn't _McNally just to prove to himself that his world didn't revolve around her and, maybe, if he was being really honest, to punish her? And how long had it taken them to fall back into the perfect rhythm as a couple after he'd been shot? They'd both tried to fight it. Head before heart; logic before love. _

_How long before he brought his lips to hers? Whatever length of time he was forced to spend away from her, he'd inevitably be counting the seconds until he could be with her again._

_How long?_

"Hey, Swarek? I hate to do this, man, but Hill's due to make an appearance any minute, which means we're not too far off from watching him get dragged out in cuffs. I figure you'll want to be nice and alert for when we get our chance at interrogating him. From what I've heard, this is long past due."

"How long was I out?" Sam said, springing to consciousness. He fumbled for the control to bring his seat from a near to supine position to upright.

"About forty minutes."

"Jeez," Sam muttered, dragging the back of his hand across his parched mouth. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?"

"Because something tells me you probably didn't get a hell of a lot of sleep last night."

Sam turned his glassy eyes to look at Steve. He had an amused look on his face, but stress clouded his features and his eyes were bloodshot through and through.

"I didn't either, man. I keep rehashing every mistake I ever made with Traci. I don't think she's ever going to get past it."

Sam sat in silence, not knowing what to say. One, because the vivid dream of the first full night he'd ever spent with Andy was still fresh on his mind and, two, because Steve Peck was the last person he had figured would start a heart to heart while they were on a bust.

"I know you don't want to hear this, Swarek."

It was like Steve had read his mind. He definitely didn't want to hear this. He was in no position to be handing out relationship advice; in fact, he was having a hard enough time dealing with his own. "Eh…" he managed to croak out, noncommittally.

"I know, I know. She's your partner, and she was your best friend's fiancee." Against his better judgment, the words continued to pour out of his mouth. "I know I screwed up. I shouldn't have interfered with Dex. I was just trying to protect her. It would break Traci if she lost custody of Leo. And you _know_ how good of a mom Traci is, man."

Sam nodded in agreement.

"I have to wonder though. Was it only a matter of time before Traci found fault with something else I did? I can't really tell if she's mad at me because of something _I _did, or if she's angry because I'm not Jerry."

"You don't think she's over him?"

Steve paused before responding, "She used to zone out every once in a while when we were talking. I would tease her that if I was boring her, I'd go tell my stories to Leo. She's smile and say she was thinking about a case or something that happened at work, but I know that for few fleeting moments, I ceased to exist in her world."

Observing Sam's somber expression, Steve was quick to apologize. "I don't mean any disrespect, Sam. I obviously didn't know him as well as you and Trace. I worked cases with Jerry, tipped back a few at the Penny, and he was a _great_ guy. But, it's pretty hard to compete with a ghost. I guess I should've know Traci wasn't ready. And I definitely shouldn't have let my feelings for her allow me to make stupid decisions."

Against his better judgment, Sam - the guy who asked 'why do we have to talk about that _stuff?_' and nearly broke out in hives when asked to discuss about 'feelings' - decided to dispense some timely advice. "I personally think that a person's heart is capable of stretching and expanding enough to love more than just one person."

"Yeah?" Steve asked, studying his folded hands, unable to meet Sam's eyes. It wasn't pity he was looking for. He had just felt the need to unburden himself, and perhaps because Sam and Traci had a bond, it felt right. "You speaking from personal experience?"

Sam grinned his reluctant smile. "From the day I met her, it's always been only McNally for me. I don't think I even knew what love really was before I met her." The smile left Sam's lips as he turned to face Steve. "Marlo's pregnant, and if I am being pragmatic, I would have to assume that I am the father."

Steve whistled through his teeth.

"But that's how I _know _that your heart can open to more than just one person in a lifetime. It's not like there's only so much love to go around, man, and once it runs out, it's gone forever. No, I think that the greater the love you feel for someone, the more capable you are of loving others."

"Pretty profound for a Thursday morning. What about Andy, though, man? Is she cool with opening her heart to someone else too? I know there's no love lost between her and Marlo. That's bound to make things a little awkward."

"Andy's got the heart of a lion. She loves fiercely, sometimes blindly, and always unconditionally. But I gotta be honest; she's young. Part of me wonders if it's fair asking her to be a part of something she she didn't plan for, something she may not be ready to take on.."

"Speaking of being ready...I've got sights on Anton Hill."

* * *

><p>Andy watched as an always-impeccably dressed Traci Nash wove her way through the chaos of the station and worked her way to the front desk where Andy had been parked for the past eight hours.<p>

"Hey," Traci nodded at Andy, her eyes a combination of sympathy and concern. "How are you doing?"

"You know," Andy shrugged, a wry look on her face and one brow raised, "I think this temporary deafness really suits working the desk. I may have to field all the annoying complaints, but since I can't really hear, it's infinitesimally less annoying."

"I was asking about your ribs," Traci laughed.

"I figured. And I'm fine. Between that and my baby daddy issues, everyone is this division is looking at me like I'm a fragile china doll. It's starting to make me extremely uncomfortable, so I-"

Traci hastily grabbed her friend by the shoulders and spun her around so that Traci was pinned between the desk and Andy was covering her.

"Um, excuse me, I know I downplayed my rib pain, but that wasn't an invitation to manhandle me, Trace."

"Sorry," Traci tucked her hair behind her ear and dropped her voice to a low tone. Her eyes scanned just over Andy's shoulder, but she continued to try to make herself shrink into Andy's shadow.

"Okay, you're officially creeping me out. Care to explain why the usually super cool Det. Nash is acting like a total weirdo?"

"I'm trying to dodge ETF Bailey," Traci hissed through a clenched jaw.

"And why's that?" At Traci's reluctant look, Andy elaborated, "He defused a bomb while it was in these very hands," Andy said with a shrug, bringing both palms up, and clarifying, "Ya know, the _first_ time, not to be confused with the _other_ two times that I nearly blew up and then, in fact, did blow up. So he's pretty badass, in my humble opinion."

Traci's eyes followed Bailey as he made his way toward Oliver's office, accompanied by a gentleman she was unfamiliar with. "I'm avoiding him because he asked me out."

"Whoa, I did not see that coming." Traci raised an eyebrow, and Andy continued. "I just mean, he seems like such a serious guy. I literally cannot picture him on a first date, which means, I _totally _think you should accept.

"I don't know," Traci moaned, her nose crinkling up, making her face look like a combination between pouty and desperately confused. "I'm not sure it's a good idea to get involved with another guy who's involved in this line of work."

"Because of the danger of the job?" The underlying message of her unspoken message was palpable. "Or because you're not over Steve?"

"I don't know. I just don't know. Honestly, I feel really horrible that Steve tried to talk to me before he left, and I blew him off."

"Don't worry about it," Andy scoffed. "They're gone for, like, four to five days at most. You need to use this time to figure things out in your head, like I'm trying to do. You're no good to anyone else if you're not taking care of yourself. Listen to your heart," Andy said earnestly.

Traci eyed her with skepticism. "You know that might be one of the corniest things that has come out your mouth, and that's saying _a lot_ because you're pretty idealistic and full of romantic notions."

Andy laughed. "I know, but what else can you do? I know that you felt like what Steve did was the ultimate betrayal, and if you can't move past it, you need to kindly but firmly cut him loose when he gets back. Some things are just deal breakers," Andy acknowledged, as her eyes fastened on a familiar figure walking purposely through the squad room of 15 division - Marlo Cruz.

**A/N - I am enjoying this story because I miss Rookie Blue (shout out to Ion for running Rookie Blue in its absence from ABC/GlobalTV! **_**This**_ **girl is super happy to have a full DVR of RB). I am wondering if you are enjoying the story too. I anticipated this wrapping up in a few chapters, but a few new ideas struck me - characters I would like to bring back and different outcomes and couplings than I originally anticipated. Please let me know in the reviews if you want a quick wrap up or if you want me to keep going and play out some this corruption drama and different scenarios!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**I think I may have been forgetting to remind you of this, but DISCLAIMER: I don't own Rookie Blue.**

"Sh_it_." It was such a rare instance when a curse word passed through the ever-optimistic cop's lips that it felt like the word punched through the air. Andy quickly spun on her heel, using the logic of three-year olds - 'if I can't see you, you can't see me'.

"Hey," Traci said in a low voice. "Marlo's not alone, either, Andy. I didn't think this exact moment could be anymore awkward, but Homicide Luke is with her."

"_Double _shit," Andy quietly lamented, unable to bring herself to say anything worse, even if the situation warranted it.

"Hey, I just saw Dov and Gail haul a girl in who looked like she was giving them a run for their money. Maybe you wanna help them in booking, and I can cover the desk a while?"

"Traci, you're a detective. That means never again having to degrade yourself to desk duty."

"But, I'm also your best friend. And the last thing you need right now is a run-in with Marlo. I'm sure that she'll be in and out. Probably just tying up loose ends on the McDonald case."

"Thank you," Andy mouthed gratefully with a small smile and darted out toward the booking desk.

"Get your _god_damn hands OFF of me!" the woman shrieked.

"Hey!" Andy sprinted over to where Gail and Dov were struggling against a flailing woman with the look of a caged animal in her eyes.

"The less you struggle, the faster they'll take their hands off you," Andy tried to reason with the desperate woman. "What are you booking her on?" Andy asked Dov, trying to expedite the booking process.

"Well, we were called to a convenient store on the corner of Mercy and Division because this woman was acting strangely, according to the manager - lying down in the aisles, slurring her words, knocking displays over, and scaring the customers. So, drunk and disorderly, for starters. Resisting arrest and assaulting an officer, if you don't calm _down_, lady," Dov implored the woman, who was still flopping around in Gail's hold like a fish out of water.

"I'm not drunk!" She spat out, her eyes blazing.

"Not according to my olfactory sense. You smell like to gargled with nail polish remover," Gail quipped. "Andy, can you please take her? She scratched me, and I think she might have drawn blood."

Andy quickly patted down the perp and deposited a wallet, a pack of gum, and a phone into a tray that Patrick, the weathered cop who typically worked in booking, immediately took for safe keeping. Andy's eyes narrowed as she smelled the odor Gail had mentioned. The smell was distinct, and Andy froze as she tried to recall where she had smelled it before.

"Ma'am, is there any _medical_ explanation for your volatile behavior?"

The woman continued to take in measured breaths while she tried to focus her eyes on the officer who was echoing distantly in her ears. "Diabetic," she mumbled.

"Dov, go and grab me a handful of sugar packets out of the kitchen." He took off in the direction of the kitchen while Gail busied herself, inspecting her reddened arm.

"I had a cousin with diabetes, and sometimes when her sugar would get low, she'd get pretty out of sorts. It used to scare the crap out of me. You need to take care of yourself - ."

"Juliet." The girl supplied her name, despite her whitened pallor and labored breathing. Dov returned with the sugar packets, which he deposited in Andy's outstretched palm.

"Okay, Juliet. Just relax and open your mouth. I'm going to pour a little sugar under your tongue. Take a seat over here on this bench and let's give it a few minutes to dissolve."

But, as is usually true in her life - as soon as she put out one fire, another combusted. Marlo and Luke, who she hadn't seen in nearly six months, entered booking with Oliver, deeply engrossed in a frantic and heated discussion.

Andy couldn't help but follow Marlo with her eyes. She wondered what the three of them were talking about in such hushed and tense tones. And why were they discussing it in booking? Unless, Andy figured, it was something Ollie worried about the white shirts hearing, because they had pretty much infiltrated his office.

_Just another example of how my life is colossally screwed up, _Andy thought to herself. _It couldn't just be Marlo who popped into 15 division unexpectedly, again. But, Luke had to simultaneously saunter back into my life? _Just then Marlo's eyes narrowed in on Andy, who was mid-reverie, mouth agape, and staring back at her.

"What, McNally?"

Andy didn't know how long she had been boring holes into Marlo with her eyes, but she quickly snapped to attention, with an overly acute awareness of her senses. Andy was sure her face belied the embarrassment she felt to have been caught staring, but she said nothing.

"No, seriously, what the fuck, McNally?"

"Marlo, that's completely uncalled for," Oliver spluttered, wholly unprepared for the Jerry Springer-like scene that was playing out before him. Luke folded his arms, looking annoyed with the dramatic exchange.

"No, what's un_called_ for is the girl who ended up with _my_ boyfriend while working in _my _division staring _me_ down while I'm just trying to finish a case and get the hell out of here."

"Marlo, I'm not trying to be a smart ass, but are you off your meds?" Luke asked in a low voice.

"Nah, she's probably just hormonal," Gail said thoughtfully to her own expression in the mirror as she continued to inspect her scratched arm. "With being preggers with Sam's baby, and all," she said with a shrug.

Silence. And then the collective sound of six heads swiveling in the direction of Gail's voice. Noting the lack of other chatter, Gail stopped what she was doing. "Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag. Figuratively and _literally_," she surmised unapologetically and shot a pointed look at Juliet, who was looking more alert and less combative by the minute.

"What in the _hell_ are you talking about, Peck?" Marlo asked, genuinely bewildered.

"The sonogram picture." Dov said, stepping forward until he was directly in front of Marlo. "I'm sorry, Marlo," he murmured low enough that only she could hear him. "I wanted to respect your privacy, but I couldn't keep this from the people I care about who have a right to know."

"Well, I appreciate your concern, but what does that picture have to do with me or my priva-" The pieces clicked into place, like a long overdue Rubik's cube. "Dov, I really hope that you didn't tell everyone and their mother at 15 division that I am _with child_."

Dov's awkward, perplexed silence was his assertion.

"Oh you've to be kidding me, Dov!" she shrieked, grabbing his elbow. "I'm absolutely _not_ pregnant. In fact, it would have to be immaculate conception because I haven't been with anyone since Sam and I-" Marlo broke off, remembering that Andy was present. And then a cold sweat broke out as fresh embarrassment washed over her. "Sam thinks I'm pregnant with his kid? Worse, that I've been keeping it from him?"

Andy heard the sound of a car pulling in and then silence as the driver killed the engine in the sallyport. She prayed it would come crashing through the wall and end the soap opera that was unfolding in front of her. She had just gotten used to the idea that Sam was gonna be a dad; her, a stepmom. But Marlo wasn't even pregnant. She didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or cry from sheer relief.

"Between this drama and nearly going into a diabetic shock, I feel like I need to lie down. It feels really weird to say this, but can you maybe take me to a cell?" Juliet asked Andy.

"Listen, I doubt either officer is going to want to book you, considering the circumstances behind your bizarre behavior." Andy reached in her vest to retrieve keys for the cuffs.

"So, Epstein finds a sonogram picture and assumes it's yours -" Luke, ever the probing detective, starts in.

"Yeah, but you confirmed it," Dov reminded her.

"How so?"

Dov replayed the conversation from early this week through his mind, feeling like it had been a lifetime since that fateful night...

"_So, I guess congratulations are in order," he murmured._

"_Yeah, I guess, to _somebody_."_

A knot formed in Dov's stomach. He'd made a rookie mistake. He formed a snap judgment the second he'd picked the sonogram picture up. He'd misread her response, her body language, her tone because of his own preconceived ideas.

"Oh my god, Marlo. I must have misunderstood." Dov pensively placed his hand across his forehead, completely mortified. "I'm so sorry. Please tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

"Whatever, Epstein. It happened. For the record, though, I retract my previous statement about you being a great fit for Intelligence. This was an epic fail, that I now have to try to clean up."

"So, here's a random thought," Luke tossed out casually. "If it's not your sonogram picture, who's is it?" The room was silent for a moment as everyone pondered the question Luke had raised.

Voices carried through to booking - one male and irritated, and the other female and indignant. There was a sense of playfulness behind the harsh words.

"Tell that to my shoes, that now have _puke_ on them."

"Fine, I'll admit it - the hot dogs were a poor choice for a mid-morning snack. But, for the record, I warned you I was nauseous. I distinctly remember telling you to pull over."

Nick and Chloe's banter stopped short as they realized that they had a captive audience. Chloe smiled, noticing Dov, while Nick's eyes locked on Juliet, who was still within Andy's hold as she fumbled for keys.

_Anything that can go wrong will go wrong, _Juliet repeated to herself her mantra and pretty much the story of her life.

Nick strode toward Juliet and Andy, with a questioning and slightly accusatory look on his face.

"Hey, Officer Collins, do you think you can take care of her for me? I need to call Sam, ASAP. She's not being booked; she just needs to be uncuffed and for someone to retrieve the items found on her person."

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead," Nick said, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of why Juliet was, one, in 15 division; two, in handcuffs, and three, in the grasp of his former girlfriend. He doubted he'd get any answers from Juliet herself. She refused to meet his gaze, and her arms were crossed sullenly over her chest. Nick dropped his shocked expression but quickly realized that most people's attention was diverted elsewhere.

"Why is everyone looking at me like I'm the next contestant on the 'Price Is Right'?" Chloe asked goodnaturedly.

"Chloe, I think we need to talk." Dov said to her, leaving no room for debate.

Andy knew that a storm was brewing, and all she wanted was to sneak off to a vacant interrogation room and call Sam to tell him the good news. "Excuse me," Andy said to no one in particular, as she turned to leave the room.

"Hold up, Andy," Oliver said quietly.

"Oliver, I need to call Sam. Now. Can whatever it is that you want to speak with me about wait?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid it can't." Oliver looked paler than usual. He and Luke exchanged a loaded stare.

"I _need _to call him -"

Andy's protestations were cut short by Luke. "Andy, you can't call Sam right now. The Buffalo PD contacted this division earlier and reported that Sam and Steve never showed up for their interrogation of Hill. Last they were seen, they were in an unmarked car while the arrest went down. But they never returned to police headquarters."

Oliver went to Andy's side as her knees turned to gelatin.

"Are you going to tell her the rest?" Marlo questioned him.

Reluctance was written all over Luke's face. He had once cared deeply about Andy and felt horrible to have to be the person to tell her what he was about to tell her.

"This," he said as he pulled a clear plastic baggie from her pocket, "was recovered a few blocks from Sam's last known whereabouts.

Inside of the bag was a recognizable thin, black rectangle - Sam's phone.

**A/N - I am sure there was a sigh of relief to learn that Marlo is NOT pregnant with Sam's baby. I wanted to let it play out a bit, but I would never pursue that as a storyline (and I hope that the RB writers don't either :) But now we're on the edge of our seats about Sam! Please review; it motivates me to know that people are enjoying it or have suggestions!**


End file.
